


The Rhythm of Freedom

by SgtCoolWhip



Series: This is all Gilbert's Fault [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alfred doesn't like rules, Alfred falls a lot, Alfred's booty, Almost smut, Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Human, Francis can't keep his hands to himself, Liberal use of swearing, M/M, Matthew's legs, Past Relationship(s) France/Britain, Past drunken experiences, Smut, Strip teases!, The micronations are amusing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-04-18 04:49:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 41,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4692647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SgtCoolWhip/pseuds/SgtCoolWhip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur Kirkland is a dancer extraordinaire. But in the years he's been doing so he lost the love of dance and the ability to be free. That is until a new dancer shows up in his life, bringing with him all the passion and fire that Arthur had lost after so long. Clashing personalities blossom into a true understanding that can only be called love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All Work and Thunderous Blond Crash Landings

  Sweat poured down Arthur’s displeased face as he watched his final position land in the wall of mirrors surrounding him. _It’s still not quite right. This position isn’t landing the way I want it to_ he thought as the final notes of Mr. Saxobeat faded from the speakers. He rushed over to pause his iPod before the next song could begin and cause his brain to start choreographing yet another piece when the one that he was currently working on was so far from perfect. Arthur was an extreme perfectionist and as much as it was strength, it was also his most crippling weakness. He pushed himself so hard to be perfect that it became an obsession that drove away partners, friends, and family almost as soon as they set foot in his studio.

_Maybe I should take a break to think this through. I mean I’m choreographing for two people when I can’t get anyone to come in and audition, thanks to my fucking horrible reputation in the dance world_ he mused wiping the sweat from his bushy eyebrows and draping the sweat soaked towel across his somewhat sore shoulders.

  He picked up his water bottle with one hand and took off his Union Jack bandana that held the sweat from back falling into his overly determined green eyes. He tossed the bandana into the corner and heard a moist smack against the floor. He sighed “3.5 hours of nonstop practicing and still absolutely nothing to show for it. FUCK!!” he yelled in frustration and flopped down on the marley.

  He took a drink from his water bottle before beginning to stretch himself out in order to start his routine once again. _Perhaps I should consider changing this piece to a solo. I highly doubt that if someone hasn’t come in by now they will come in in time to perfect the routine for competition. I’ll give it one more day, and then I’m changing it, if no one shows up_ he thought rising from the floor and walking over to restart his music and rush back to the middle of the floor as the song began once again.

As the music began Arthur closed his eyes and entered the world where nothing but the music could reach him. He opened his eyes and began to let his hips move to the opening of the song. First side to side, then circle in a way that arched his spine and stuck his chest out.

You make me dance

Brings me up

Brings me down

Plays it sweet

Makes me move like a freak

Mr. Saxobeat

  His muscles slowly loosened then suddenly tightened as he moved his legs and arms in the same motions he had done at least 15 times that day. Legs swing, opening his body; arms were thrown over his head as he arched his spine pushing his pelvis forward. As this phrase repeated Arthur once again began musing and let his muscle memory do all the work. _All of this needs to be perfect. And for that to happen I need a partner that can match my pace and intensity. The reason those other guys didn’t last was because they couldn’t keep up, which is something I cannot allow_.

Oh oh oh oh eh yeah eh

Hm yeah eh hmhmhm yeah eh

Oh oh eh hm yeah eh

Hm yeah eh hmhmhm yeah eh

_Right here I would have a partner enter so we could make this a real push and pull situation. How could I adapt this so that it works for just me without having to change the entire focus of this dance? Please let someone come in for this audition. It’s all I really need to get it perfect…from my end at least._

Hey sexy boy, set me free

Don’t be so shy, play with me

My dirty boy, can’t you see

That you belong next to me

Hey sexy boy, set me free

Don’t be so shy, play with me

My dirty boy, can’t you see

You are the one I need

 Arthur began his half of the choreography by pulling away from an imaginary partner and being spun back into their grasp. He looked over his shoulder into where he assumed his partner’s eyes would be and had his left hand resting on his right hip where his partner would have a hold on him as they swayed their hips together. He then stepped behind his imaginary partner to swing himself around the other side of his partner’s body and swinging his left leg up onto a waiting forearm at the knee and extending it slowly.

 You make me dance

Bring me up

Bring me down

Play it sweet

Make me move like a freak

Mr. Saxobeat

  As Arthur kept moving, changing pace, stretching and contracting his body, he thought about all of the partners that he could have performed this particular dance with, who would have fit it the best, why they left when he began to go into over-perfectionist mode while dancing.

_I’ll find someone a thousand times better than all of them and show them that I can have someone make it through more than one competition with me. Even if I don’t I can be better that all of those wankers all on my own. But having a new partner would really help me stick it to them. But it’s not like quality partner just drop out of nowhere_ he thought as finished his dance and looked into the mirror.

Over head the ceiling creaked as if unable to continue supporting some weight that had no business being up that high in the first place. As Arthur rose from his final position there was a thunderous crash behind him as a shirtless male body came crashing down to Earth causing Arthur to have a small heart attack.

 “Ow” a voice said coming from the body now on the studio floor.

  Arthur slowly walked over while checking that he could quickly get to an exit or a makeshift weapon. Upon hearing Arthur’s approach the man lifted his head and revealed the brightest baby blue eyes Arthur had ever seen.

  “Um…hey, I’m here for the audition” said the man with an awkward smile. He pushed himself up off of the floor and the first thing Arthur noticed the rippling back muscle that made his mouth water just watching them flex and roll as he rose. Next were the well-muscled pectoral and washboard abs under golden tanned skin.

  Once Arthur managed to tear his eyes away from the expanse of tanned skin and muscles presented to him by the man from above due the stranger’s lack of a shirt, his eyes traveled up to meet a bright white smile under a straight nose that supported the center of a thin pair of glasses covering those astoundingly blue eyes and a head of honey blond hair with a renegade cowlick.

_Is this the answer to my prayers?_ Arthur thought while still staring at the stranger.

“Um …dude? You okay? I didn’t mean to scare you or anything” the stranger said looking at Arthur with concern.

 Arthur blinked rapidly after being called back from his staring and musings. “Huh?” Arthur looked at the face of the stranger with confusion.

 “I’m here for the audition” the blond stranger stated once again.

 Arthur stared at him wide eyed, then shifted into his trademarked glares and yelled “Why the bloody fuck were you on the ceiling then?!” his accent now even more pronounced.

“Woah dude calm down. Glad to know the rumors about your foul mouth and temper are true” the man laughed.

Arthur rolled his eyes “Who the hell are you anyway? I assume you are a dancer since you have heard rumors about me. Not all of which are true I might add.”

The man laughed loudly “Funny way of proving it. Anyway, yes I am a dancer. My name is Alfred F. Jones.” He said flashing another bright white smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there readers! If you've found this then congratulations! You are about to embark on a musical dance adventure! No but seriously, thanks for reading. This is my first work so please be gentle but honest. Each chapter of this story is inspired by a song (possibly two or three on occasion). The song for this chapter is Mr. Saxobeat by Alexandra Stan. I give all credit for the musical selections to the writers, artists, and producers, I own nothing here but this story and the choreography therein. Now that that's out of the way, please feel free to leave comments or whatever. I like knowing what the readers think. I think that's all so, See you next week ~SgtCoolWhip


	2. Drunk Birds and Rising Heat

“My name is Alfred F. Jones” Alfred said with a bright white smile.

_And I hope I didn’t fuck up my chances at actually doing well at this audition. Arthur Kirkland only dances with the best performers and I just crashed down from the ceiling like a goddamn drunk bird. He’s pretty hard on people, judging from his lack of partner after only one competition with him. Hope he doesn’t hold this incident against me_ He thought, watching Arthur give him a calculating once over.

“So are you going to tell me why you were on the ceiling of my studio, Mr.…Jones was it?” Arthur asked pulling Alfred from his semi panicked thoughts.

“Yeah um… Well I came in a while ago to audition but you weren’t here. So I figured I’d get some practicing in before I performed for you. And due to a certain series of events I had to go up to the ceiling, I got stuck, and couldn’t come down before you showed up” He said blushing.

“And your shirt?” Arthur asked once again, glancing at the expanse of pectoral muscle in front of him.

Alfred, blushing a deeper shade of red and averting his eyes, replied “That would be part of the series of events I mentioned a moment ago.”

“All right then. I’ll give you a shot. But only because your entrance was so unconventional” Arthur said with a smirk of his own.

“Really?! Thank You!! You won’t be disappointed!” He yelled, pulling a black tank top over his head.

“I should hope not” Arthur replied dryly.

Alfred rushed over to hook up his iPod to the speaker, hit play, and sprinted back to the center of the floor as the music began to pulse from the speakers.

The gal dem Schillaci

Sean da Paul

So me give it to

So me give it to

So me give it to

To all girls

Alfred focused in and let his chest pulse to the beat and had the rest of his body soon follow in order to catch the tempo and follow the music.

Five million and forty naughty shorty

Baby girl

All my girls

All my girls

Sean da Paul say

He stepped out just past shoulder width on both sides of his body and dropped into a crouch on the floor.

_Don’t think. Feel the music and be free._

He chanted his motto as he did before he officially began any form of performance.

Well woman the way the time cold

I wanna be keepin you warm

I got the right temperature

For shelter you from the storm

He moved his left leg across his body to line up just past his planted right foot and placed his left foot on the floor. He twisted his body so that he was doing a back bend that revealed half of his gorgeously tanned abdominals.

Oh lord,

Girl I got the right tactics to turn you on

And girl I

Wanna be the papa

You can be the mom…oh oh

Using his core muscles he slowly pulled his upper body up from the back bend in slow counts. Upon standing upright he performed a body roll that accentuated the muscles in his thighs and calves, and showed off his firm slightly rounded ass.

As he continued dancing to Sean Paul’s voice he felt a burning on his body that was not from the intense way his was making his body move. It was the kind of burning that people felt went they knew they were being stared at by an intensely focus pair of eyes. Alfred chanced a glance at Arthur, hoping to gauge a reaction on whether or not giving his all was even worth the energy he was exerting in this semi seductive display. There were a few things that Alfred expected to see on Arthurs face when he finally got the chance to look. Intrigue, confusion, impress, or dismissal were a few on that particular list. What he wasn’t expecting was the expression of appreciation and something that appeared suspiciously like how a starved lion watches a young and vulnerable gazelle, glazed over look in those expressive green eyes.

_Looks like he likes it. If I keep this up he might take a bite and I’ll have a shot at this. Time to turn up the heat a little bit more_ he thought whipping his head back around, flinging a little sweat and flashing Arthur a flirtatious smirk.

Bumper exposed and gal you

Got your chest out but you

No waster cause gal you impress out

And if you des out a me

You fi test out

Cause I got the remedy

To make you destress out

Alfred shook his hips, pushing them forward toward Arthur in a way that almost put Shakira to shame. He watched as Arthur’s eyes looks even more hypnotized as he slowly stripped himself of his shirt, once more revealing those tantalizing abs and tanned chest to his entranced audience.

_Time to finish this out the right way. As the saying goes “Always leave them wanting more”_

With that thought he tossed his shirt up and toward Arthur as he flipped backward into a single handed hand stand.

Well woman the way the time cold

I wanna be keepin you warm

I got the right temperature

For shelter you from the storm

Oh Lord,

Gal I got the right tactics to turn you on

And girl I

Wanna be the papa

You can be the mom…oh oh

He used his bicep to create a pulse throughout his body while unconsciously emphasizing his rippling back muscles. With this pulse he used his wrist and fingers on the floor to turn him slowly toward his audience again. He then pushed off of his planted hand to land on his feet. Catching Arthur’s eye he winked and dropped to his knees, sliding right in front of Arthur and pulsing his chest twice as the music faded out.

He stayed on the floor to both catch his breath and let Arthur process everything that he had just witnessed. Wiping off the thick layer of sweat from his forehead so that it wouldn’t fall into his eyes, he stood slowly and took a few steps back since when he stood up he was pretty much chest to chest with Arthur. And judging by the unfocused expression on his face, having Alfred that close to him was not helping him to process whatever thoughts were floating around in his pretty ash blond head.

Noticing that even after taking a few steps back Arthur was still lost within his own mind Alfred cleared his throat loudly jarring Arthur back into reality.

“Dude… Comments? Questions? Evaluations? Hidden Desires?” he said slightly chuckling at Arthur’s confused face.

“Huh... Oh right!” Arthur exclaimed after finally bringing himself back from fantasy land. “Temperature was an interesting choice for an audition piece. I’m guessing you know the theme of the competition I’m entering since you chose to perform that particular piece for me?”

“Yeah bro! Wasn’t that hard to figure which one you were gonna enter. Especially after seeing your routine” He laughed.

“Right. Since you’ve had a guess at something after seeing my routine, I think it only fair that I take a guess at something about you after seeing yours” Arthur said tilting his head to the side.

“Guess away Artie!” Alfred yelled continuing to laugh.

Arthur grimaced but continued to speak. “ I’m venturing a guess that that little stunt you pulled with your shirt just now was the reason you were on the ceiling, and thereby able to see my routine before it was perfected and then came crashing back down to Earth. Right?” Arthur said, grinning sadistically at the uncomfortable bright red blush creeping up on Alfred’s cheeks and raising an eyebrow.

_How the hell does he raise an eyebrow that big?_

“Um… Can we just forget about my wasted bird routine Artie?” Alfred mumbled scratching the back of his head nervously as his blush persisted.

He looked up and saw Arthur smirk

“I’ll make you a deal. You agree to my terms and I’ll forget about, as you so eloquently phrased it, ‘your wasted bird routine’.”

“Name it! Whatever it is I’ll do it! Just please forget about it!” Alfred begged dropping to his knees and clasping his hands together in the child’s classic begging position.

“Condition 1) you show up on time and ready every day that we have practice. Condition 2) you put the same amount of energy you used in that audition into practice and competitions. Condition 3) Never, under any circumstance what so ever, call me “Artie” again. My name is Arthur and I will be addressed as such” Arthur listed poking Alfred hard in the chest.

“Ow! Stop it dude that hurts…wait… You mean I passed? Fuck Yeah!” He yelled in a celebratory fashion as he thrust a fist in the air. He got off the floor, bright smile never dropping.

Arthur chuckled at the childish display. “I like the fact that you’re both bold and willing to take a risk when you don’t know for sure how your judge will react. I wouldn’t make a habit of it, but I respect it enough to give you a shot. I’m looking forward to working with you Mr. Jones.” Arthur said offering his hand for a hand shake.

“I prefer Alfred, Al, or Alfie. I’m looking forward to working with you too, dude” Alfred said taking the offered hand.

“All right Alfred. Before you go, there are few things you need to know. Firstly, we practice Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings starting, not arriving, promptly at 6:30 pm and finishing at 9:30 pm. On Saturdays we begin at 1:00 pm and continue until 7:00 pm with a break in between for a light meal. Sundays we practice for two hours at a time of your choice after 11:00am. I will need to be able to contact you to inform you of a change in schedule and I expect a reply if you can or cannot comply with said change. I also expect that if you must arrive after our expected start time you let me know as far ahead of time as possible. Do we have an understanding?” Arthur said seriously, staring into Alfred’s eyes as if waiting for him to back down.

Alfred stared back and let out a sigh “Damn. I heard you were strict and had some serious rules but I wasn’t expecting you to be a control freak.” Arthur looked at him as though he were about to show him what a control freak really was, but Alfred interrupted the beginning of his tirade by saying “Yeah man I got it. I’ll follow the rules.”

After exchanging contact information Alfred departed the studio and made his way back down the block to his car. Once inside he pulled out his phone, opened his messages, and tapped on an all too familiar name in his contacts. After typing out his message he hit send and put his phone away before starting his car and driving off toward his apartment.

* * *

 

Across the city a quiet dirty blond man stood outside of another studio watching the company inside practice a ballet that he could not place through the fogged up picture window. He shyly brushed his hair behind his ear with the exception of a wayward curl that he could not hold in place no matter how hard he tried. He had been staring at the instructor as he demonstrated with a young woman how to perform a certain move with her partner and let his hands roam a little too high and a little too  low on her body to be considered appropriate. As he continued staring as the class was dismissed his phone vibrated two short times in his pocket informing him that he had a text message. He held the phone up to his lavender eyes and read the message sent to him by an all too familiar contact.

**I’m in the competition. Your move Mattie. :-)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! So this chapter is brought to you by Temperature by Sean Paul. All credit for the musical selections goes to Artists, Writers, and Producers I own nothing here but this story and choreography there in. Now with that out of the way, thanks for reading and the kudos! I really appreciate it. So... this chapter happens to have my favorite choreography in it. Alfred's acrobatics just make me smile.... well that and the fact that if you bend the right way there's just the right amount of tantalizing skin revealed. But yeah I'm rambling so I'm gonna cut out here. Leave comments, or whatever it is you want to do. Let me know what you think. See you next week! ~SgtCoolWhip


	3. Unforeseen Storms and Wandering Hands

**I’m in the competition. Your move Mattie :-)**

The words on his phone screen burned into the back of his mind as he locked it and put it back into his pocket.

Matthew let out a deep sigh. _Okay Al. I don’t know why I keep making bets with you, but I’m going in,_ he thought at Alfred even though he knew Alfred couldn’t hear or see him. He let out another long suffering sigh. _Can’t back out now._

With that final thought Matthew steeled himself and walked into the studio. The best way to describe Matthew Williams and his twin brother Alfred F. Jones was the comparison between the twin Greek gods Apollo and Artemis. Alfred, with his bright smiles, honey blond hair, well-muscled body, and sunny disposition always reminded him of Apollo. Matthew would then be forced to think of himself as the male version of Apollo’s twin sister Artemis. He had dirty blond hair instead of honey blond. He was well-muscled but they lacked the strong definition and golden tan that his brother’s held so well, giving him a pale, delicate appearance by comparison. He didn’t have eyes as blue as the afternoon sky on a bright sunny day. He instead possessed pale lavender eyes similar in color to the sky at dusk. Their biggest difference however was in their personalities. Alfred was loud, bright, bold, and hyper whereas Matthew was mellow, quiet, calm and (by his brother’s description) boring. _Well none of that matters now. In the art of dance we are equals and now it’s time to see who will be the best._

Matthew stepped past the entrance and caught his first glance at the instructor he had been watching, without the obstruction of students and a foggy picture window to distort the beauty of the man.

The instructor of the company that Matthew had been watching had his eyes closed as he lost himself in the music he was dancing to. Shakira’s deep alto voice rang out from the speakers and Matthew immediately recognized it as her verse in the song Beautiful Liar.

I trusted him but when I followed you, I saw you together

I did know about you then ‘till I saw you with him when yea

I walked in on your love scene, slow dancing

You stole everything, how can you say I did you wrong?

Francis Bonnefoy waved his wavy golden blond hair as he further drowned himself in the voices of Beyoncé and Shakira. His lean muscled arms wrapped around his tight dark blue Underarmor tank top covered torso as he placed his relatively large and talented hands on his hips as they swung left and right. Those sinfully swinging hips sat above long toned legs clothed by semi tight bright red sweat pants that did amazing things for the firm derriere beneath them.

He turned himself toward the entrance of the studio to reveal and incredible well-proportioned handsome face with a well maintained beard that helped further define his already strong jaw line. He finally opened his eyes to check if anyone had come in and in the process revealed that his eyes were a clear ocean blue that hid a small glimmer of mischief. 

_I thought I heard someone come in. must have been my imagination. Oh well. Shakira take me away_ he thought, unable to see Matthew slowly approaching directly in front of him.

A whispery voice, almost like a spirit on the wind, struck his ear drum and nearly made him hit the ceiling with how hard he jumped “Um excuse me…” Matthew mumbled. He shyly looked at the floor, feeling slightly disappointed that Francis hadn’t seen him approach when he was staring right at him.

“Sacre Bleu! How long have you been here?! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Francis yelled in both fear and frustration. If there was one thing he hated, it was being scared shitless, especially in the middle of choreographing.

“I’ve… um I’ve been here since around the second verse” Matthew said, blushing nervously.

After taking a moment to regain his composure Francis took a few moments to look Matthew over.

_Hmm. Shy, blushing an adorable pink, somewhat curly blond hair. Nice thin frame, he seems almost delicate. But I can still see muscles_ his eyes traveled down toward Matthew’s legs. _Long, hopefully flexible legs, narrow hips and…well that is quite the cute derriere._ Francis smiled appreciatively and decided to turn on the charm.

“Désole mon cher, I really do hate being interrupted but that was no reason for me to be rude to you. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Francis Bonnefoy, and who might you be, my dear?” he said offering his hand.

“I’m… Matthew Williams” Matthew replied, hesitantly taking the offered hand.

“Enchante” he whispered kissing the hand and giving Matthew a wink. He internally chuckled at how Matthew’s face managed to grow three shades darker.

_Oh he is going to be very entertaining…at least for a little while._

“So what can I do for you Matthew?” Francis took a few steps into Matthew’s personal space, causing Matthew to become even more nervous.

“I’m um… I heard that you were…um looking for a partner.”

_He’s just darling!!_

“I don’t remember advertising my preferences anywhere. But that doesn’t mean I won’t think about giving you a try mon cher.” Francis whispered, his lips brushed against the shell of Matthew’s ear causing him to shiver and jump away.

“I…I don’t mean… I’m not…I-I …I” Matthew grew more and more flustered much to the amusement of Francis. “I don’t mean to say that it’s bad that you’re… not that I’m assuming…” 

“Calm down Matthew. I was just teasing you” he said with a smile that showed that he was only partially joking.

_He really is too cute for his own good_

“Take a deep breath and try again” Francis continued and moved to stand behind Matthew to get another look at that cute little butt.

Matthew took a deep breath completely unaware of the increasingly impure thoughts going through Francis’ mind and the large hand inching their way eagerly toward his backside.

“I came to audition to be your new dance partner. I know you normally go out and scout your own partners or you pick from members of your company, but I really want to try because I know you wouldn’t notice if I didn’t do this” Matthew rattled off quickly.

“Hmm, All right let’s see what you can do. Can you tell me about the piece you’ll be performing for me?” he said sitting down with his back against the wall of mirrors continuing to stare at Matthew.

“Um… I kind of want it to be a surprise. I like to have my audience think one thing and have them be shocked by what they see. It’s a bad habit I picked up from my brother. I’m sorry if you don’t like it.”

_It’s so cute how he rambles when he’s nervous_

Matthew walked to set up his music and moved back to center floor waiting for his song to start.

_I bet it’s something soft and bubbly. He looks like he would pick that kind of song. Even so, I could make him work with-_

Francis’ thoughts through the beginning of the song Matthew had chosen to dance to; were interrupted by one of the many songs he never expected the shy, quiet, innocent looking blond to dance to. 

She moves her body like a cyclone

And she makes me wanna so it all night long

Going hard when they turn the spotlights on

Because she moves her body like a cyclone

Just like a cyclone

Just as Francis was when Matthew walked into his studio, he closed his eyes and began his process of losing himself in his music. He swiveled his left ankle and let that swiveling motion travel up his tight shorts covered thigh, then to his hips and his pert little derriere, up his torso to his head. When he circled his head back around and opened his eyes, he was no longer the same Matthew that first walked into the studio. His pale lavender eyes seemed to harden and darken with promises that something insane was going to happen.

_This is my zone. Here I am the best and the strongest. No one can judge what I do. No one can handle me. No one can stop me._

He chanted his mantra over and over like a broken record in his mind as he let himself go further into the world his dancing and music provided for him.

I look at that double on the back of that bumpa

She ain’t even playin when she shaken that rumpa

And oh you ain’t know

She gets lower than a muffla

Even with her girlfriends

Show stoppin with a hustla

He dropped to one knee and popped his but twice before spinning on his planted knee and using the momentum to land in a semi push up position. He pushed himself up into a standing position and in an almost dangerous feline-esque motion, created a wave like effect that traveled from his torso down to his feet.

As the music continued he let himself drown further into the sounds and the rhythms of the song. Though his eyes were open he either could not see Francis’ combination of shock, arousal, approval, and mischievous expression across his face or chose not to. He felt a burn run through his body creating a pleasant warmth starting from his rapidly moving hips and (by extension)  ass and extending to the tips of his fingers that were out stretched over his head as he continued dancing.

_Eat your heart out Francis. Everyone knows your reputation, so I know you’re enjoying everything I’m doing. Even though you’re not touching me I can feel your eyes gliding over my body in the same way I know your extremely talented hands have the desire to. I know how much you want to rip these shorts off, get me back in that half kneeling position underneath you. But if you think this’ll be a free ride, think again. This is going to be a give and take situation. You give me this position and I might just let you have a little taste._

It’s a wrap

When she them boys off a typhoon

It’s a wrap

Better get that fatty like a boss tycoon

It’s a wrap

Now hold it steady ‘cause she make a monsoon

It’s a wrap

Now you can Google download to iTunes

Matthew slid a half step closer to Francis before turning to the side doing a half kick with his right foot and placing it on the floor while simultaneously quickly bending backward to touch the floor with his left hand. He pulled himself back up and in a motion almost as sensuous as a snake creeping up on its prey, stepped another half step closer to Francis. He pulled his right arm across his torso and his left hand clamped onto his right wrist. He raised the connected appendages over his head and disconnected them as he did another body roll that would make most female dancers jealous. He took another step toward Francis, now just barely out of arms reach, teasing Francis with what he wanted to grasp but couldn’t. He gave Francis a wink and small smirk before, with all the skill and grace of a gymnast, performed a backward walkover that put him closer to the center of the floor once more.

He let a small portion of his absolute concentration slip so that he could take a peek at his clearly captured audience. Francis was completely and utterly entranced by everything that Matthew was doing. His cheeks were a faint red, his mouth was slightly agape to let his tongue run over his lips, and his eyes… his eyes were glazed over with his desire to tie Matthew’s wrists and ankles together, cover him in chocolate, lick it off slowly, and finally suck out his warm, sweet cream filling.

_Perfect. This position is mine. Now hang on tight Francis. There’s still a little more left to this performance._ He smirked to himself as he continued to move in a highly sensual manner. _If you’re a good boy, you might just get a taste. No promises though._ He mentally chuckled to himself at the potential visual of Francis being denied his desire for an extended period of time.

Shawty got looks

Shawty got class

Shawty got hips

Shawty got ass

When she hit the stage

She drop it down low like

Rew rew rew rew rew rew rew rew

Ah this is crazy

It’s amazing

She must be the weather lady

She lookin like

Rew rew rew rew rew rew rew rew

Matthew executed a series of poses in tempo with the voice of T- Pain. In his mind he pictured Francis as a photographer that kept demanding to be given more and Matthew never liked being one to disappoint. He hit four different poses, one for each thing “Shawty got”. He then performed them in rapid succession twice before winding his hips slowly. He stood up straight, placing both of his hands on the sides of his head and circled his head around. He then dropped one to go over his heart and raised his other over hand to point upward. He finished by slowly sliding down into perfect split and giving Francis the come hither bedroom eyes. He held his position until the music faded out slowly and left a sweaty Matthew and a stunned Francis surrounded by a ringing silence.

_I haven’t seen a split that perfect since… No! I said I was done with him when I left. It’s time for someone new._ Francis thought as he slowly got off the floor as Matthew did the same.

His thoughts were the only thing keeping him in enough control to not rush over to an eagerly awaiting review Matthew, dragging him to the back storage room, and showing him exactly what that little performance had done to him.

“That was quite the performance, mon cher.”

Matthew looked up into those mischievous blue eyes and blushed a deep rose red. “Thank you. I hope you didn’t find it offensive in any way. If you did I’m so sorry. I’ll leave if you didn’t like it. I’m sorry for wasting your time. I didn’t mean-“he rambled looking at the floor in distress.

“Matthew! Calm down. You didn’t waste my time” Francis said, slinking up to Matthew and placing a finger under his jaw to make him to force him to look up. “It was quite the opposite actually. Your performance gave me a few interesting ideas of things I can do with you, mon petit danseur. If you want we can go to the back room and work on a few of them. Ohonhonhon. ~”

“I… um…I…I-“ Matthew stammered as Francis leaned his face down closer causing Matthew to blush an even deeper shade of red.

“Ohonhonhon~ I’m not hearing a no mon cher. Shall I take that as you would like to know exactly what I want to do with that deliciously flexible body? How I want to stretch your beautiful cream colored legs into positions you didn’t know you could put them in. Or how I can make your back bow so much that-“

“Francis…” Matthew whispered nervously, feeling Francis slide his other hand down to a less than respectable place.

“Oui Matthew?” Francis whispered back seductively planting his hand firmly on Matthew’s backside as he had wanted to from the moment he saw him. Francis squeezed his butt gently and moved himself even closer so that they were chest to chest and pelvis to pelvis.

Matthew squeaked and jumped backward in a futile attempt at escape. “Um I’d like to know if I got the position if you don’t mind. I would also appreciate if you would kindly remove your hand from my ass.”

“Well of course I want you as my partner after that little display. I’d be crazy not to. You know, you’re a completely different person when you’re dancing. Never the less I look forward to getting to know you both in a more…intimate way.” He brushed his lips against the shell of Matthew’s ear before pulling away with a wink and refusing to let go of Matthew’s butt. 

“Thank you.” Matthew gasped as Francis gave his butt another squeeze.

_I’m never going to get used to that. No matter how long I dance with him._

After exchanging contact information and a very handsy promise that a call would be coming through for him later that night. Matthew finally managed to escape the adventurous and perverted clutches of Francis. He made his way back to his car and let out an exhausted sigh and pulled out his phone to text his brother. He locked his phone and threw it down on the seat before taking off down the street where hopefully Francis’ hands couldn’t reach him…at least for a little while.

* * *

 

Alfred woke up violently from his nap on the couch. The television was running the credits for a movie that his couldn’t identify in his semi-conscious state. The vibrations and pinging of his phone informed him that he had a text message. Upon checking it he arose from his couch and made his way to the kitchen.

**Al…I’ll be there in 20. Make me some pancakes and break out the maple syrup. Mattie’s had a long afternoon.**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! So this chapter is brought to you by Beautiful Liar by Beyonce feat. Shakira and Cyclone by Baby Bash feat. T-Pain. You guys should know the deal by now so I'm not typing it again. Moving on. So you see that tag at the top that says Francis can't keep his hands to himself? Yeah. this is only step one. Also Matt's audition piece may have been my third favorite to choreograph. Legs hurt like a bitch afterwards but still a lot of fun. I know this whole thing is moving pretty slowly but it will pick up. Just give it some time... like two weeks. Thanks for all the kudos and such. And thanks for reading. Feel free to leave comments and such, ask questions, demand to know what's next (I'm not gonna tell you but you can still ask), tell me if I failed to address something (chances are I noticed and forgot to go back and fix it), whatever the hell you want to do. Now with all that said and done I'm gonna cut out here before I start to bore you with my ramblings. See you next week! ~SgtCoolWhip


	4. Pillow Fights and Brotherly Love

**Al…I’ll be over in 20. Make me some pancakes and break out the maple syrup. Mattie’s had a long afternoon.**

Alfred rolled off of the couch with a loud groan and had a prompt and intimate reunion with the floor.

“Damn it floor! We’ve talked about this! We’ll have out reunions on my terms, not when you want it!”

He pushed himself off of the ground that clearly had demanded his attention while he slept and was upset about being ignored. He glared down at the offending carpet that had forced him into the unwanted meeting, grabbed his phone and made his way to the kitchen. He ran over the list of ingredients in his mind, making sure that he had everything that he needed to fulfill his brother’s request.

“Flour, baking powder, salt, sugar, milk, eggs, aaaaaand butter. Looks like everything’s here” he glanced over into the open cabinet and saw something that made his already bright blue eyes light up.” Sweet! I forgot I had chocolate chips! Now mission ‘Comfort food for Mattie’ is a go! Yeah!” he shouted and scampered around his kitchen gathering cooking utensils.

Despite their polar opposite natures, the twins were the best of friends and had traditions that they’d kept since they were kids. One of which was the making of a favorite comfort food when one of them had a particularly stressful day. For Matthew it was pancakes with ten shit tons of maple syrup and for Alfred it was cheeseburgers with a copious amount of patties, bacon, and three different types of cheese. They knew that those weren’t the best food choices for what they chose to do with their lives, but they had a follow- up tradition of going to the gym together to work off the excess calories.

Al chuckled to himself thinking back on a few of the reasons for their comfort-food-and-work-out brother bonding days as he mixed the pancake batter for both of them. One bowl with chocolate chips mix into the batter and the other with plain batter and a slight touch of cinnamon.  As Al spread the first two pancakes on the pre-prepped griddle and let them start cooking, he hooked his phone up to the speakers that he kept in the kitchen in order to make the process of cooking go by faster and be less suckish. He set his music on his cooking playlist and turned the volume up to the max. 

Two songs and seven pancakes later, Al’s favorite song of the month, Party In Your Bedroom, exploded from the speakers. Al started swinging his hips and twisting his torso in time with the music, raising the hand that wasn’t currently occupied by a spatula. He balled his raised hand up into a fist and began pumping it in the air. He started singing along with the lead singer giving his empty apartment a concert it would never forget… if it had the ability to think and remember anything.

There’s a party in your bedroom

All night long

There’s a lot of talk about you

‘Cause there’s a party in your bedroom

Pretty girl

It’s a show

Let it go when you’re alone

His baritone voice rang through his apartment in perfect harmony with the lead singer. Just like when he danced, his voice expressed all the joy, freedom, and sunshine that people often told him that he was the physical embodiment of. After he flipped yet another pair of pancakes, he danced his way over to his phone to put the song on loop. He was going to play this song until he either got sick of it or passed out, whichever came first. He spun his way back over to the stove to remove the cooking pancakes and start another set. He continued singing and swinging his hips to his current jam, completely unaware that he would soon have an audience for his private concert and cooking show.

* * *

 

Matthew drove about fifteen miles per hour over the speed limit to get to his brother’s place. Not that he was really paying any attention to how fast he was going. His thoughts were still occupied by his meeting with the infamous Francis Bonnefoy a few minutes before.

_At least I know all the rumors about him not being able to keep his hands to himself are absolutely, unquestionably, and completely true. I might have to keep a better eye on my water bottle and his hands if I want to make it out of his studio unmolested. Though, judging by what happened today, molestation by those hands may be inevitable. But just because it’s more than likely going to happen anyway, doesn’t mean that I have to bend over and make it easy for him._ Matthew sighed for the umpteenth time since he had gotten up that morning. _I hope Al pulled out the good syrup. I feel like I need it._

He pulled up in from of his brother’s building and parked behind the familiar Toyota Corolla with the American flag air freshener , bald eagle bobble head on the dash board, and the license plate that said ‘FREEDOM’. He shook his head looking at the vehicle paraphernalia that screamed ‘America!’ and thought _Typical Alfred. Got dad’s American patriotism and mom’s energy._

He got out of his car and sped walked to the front door of the building, pulling out his key along the way. Upon entering the door he proceeded to walk up the five flights of stairs that would place him but a mere hallway away from his brother and an enormous stack of flapjacks.  Once he reached the desired floor he walked down to the end of the hallway and around the corner that put him in front of the apartment door.

_Mmmm I can taste those pancakes now. Hope Al made enough for me to take home too. His pancakes are the best, after mom’s of course._

Matthew stuck his key in the lock and turned it to let himself into his brother’s domain and was immediately met with the two things he associated with quick comfort, the smell of pancakes and the singing voice of his beloved twin. He followed both the sound of the music and the smell of his favorite food further into the apartment and found himself standing in the doorway of the kitchen. He stopped and watched with an amused expression as Alfred danced and flipped pancakes, so immersed in his singing and private party that he seemed to not notice the presence of the person he was making all of these pancakes for. Matthew, not dropping his amused smirk, stalked up behind his brother and prepared for his part in their brotherly bonding tradition.

* * *

 

Alfred felt an extremely familiar pair of hands creep around his waist and a set of hips swinging in time with his own. On his right shoulder he felt the pressure of a chin resting on his collar bone and from the corner of his eye he saw a flash of dirty blond hair. He smiled a little more as the song began once again and heard his brother chuckle in his ear as they continued dancing together. Matthew then began their usual game.

“There’s a party in your bedroom? Was I invited?”

Alfred let out a chuckle of his own and whispered back “Of course you are Mattie” as he continued flipping pancakes.

Matthew leaned in closer to Alfred and adopted a sensual tone, that reminded him vaguely of Francis, as he whispered “Is it going to be sweaty?”

“Isn’t it always?” Alfred mumbled back, struggling to stay in character.

Matthew slid his hand down Alfred’s waist the rest on his hips and pulled him closer to his chest.  “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

“I know you will. Otherwise you wouldn’t be allowed back. And neither of us wants that.”

Matthew smirked again and pulled back slightly. “Is everything ready for it?”

Al turned his head toward his brother, noting that his eyes were filled with unconcealed mischief that Al immediately mirrored. “You know it.”

Matthew let out a chuckle as he released his brother’s hips. “In that case…” He walked out of the kitchen and into a different room, out of sight of his brother.

Alfred quickly finished the last of the pancakes; put the dirty dishes in the sink and the completed pancakes on a plate that he placed in the oven in order to keep them warm. He looked over his shoulder before following the same path Matthew had taken and wound up at his bedroom entryway. 

He peered around the room, but Matthew was nowhere to be seen. What was in his sights, however, was the pile of pillows he had left on his bed that appeared to be missing a pillow. Keeping watch all over his surroundings Alfred rushed over to his bed to grab another pillow. As he turned around to begin the hunt for Matthew, pillow in hand, he was unceremoniously whacked in the face by his missing pillow wielded by a maniacally cackling Matthew.

“Two points to Mattie!” Matthew yelled running at full speed out of the room.

After recovering from the pillow to the face Alfred yelled “You’re going down little brother!” as he tore out of the room, attempting to keep an eye out for a flash of blond or a flying pillow. “Where did you go?” he mumbled keeping his pillow up as a guard. He was promptly smacked from behind by the very pillow he had been trying to keep an eye out for.

“Two more points for Mattie! You’re getting slow big brother!  Those two minutes catching up to you already?” Matthew taunted, laughing so loudly that it almost drowned out the music that was continuing to play from the kitchen. In the midst of his taunting Matthew failed to notice the pillow headed right for him until it smacked him on the top of the head.

“You tell me! Three points for the conquering hero!!” Alfred whooped and made a mad dash for his living room with Matthew hot on his heels.

“We’ll just see about that!” Matthew yelled as the pillow fight to end all pillow fights continued to the tune of Party In Your Bedroom.

* * *

Forty-five minutes and two exploded pillows later, both Matthew and Alfred lie panting and exhausted in a pile of feathers and pillow stuffing.

Matthew turning his head toward his brother and smiled. “Draw?”

“Deal dude.” Alfred panted back getting off of the floor. “Come on and get these pancakes. I made plenty.”

“Sir yes sir.” Matthew chuckled getting off of the feather covered carpet and following Alfred back into the kitchen. He sat down at the table in his usual seat and a plate of five pancakes was place in from of him along with a gallon jug of maple syrup from the stash that he kept at Alfred’s place. “Mmmmm. Homemade pancakes. The best thing to happen to mankind since the ability to tap trees for sap to make syrup” he said proceeding to drown his stack in about seventy percent of the jug from his stash.

Alfred turned off his music and sat down with his own stack of pancakes. “Glad you’re happy, Mattie. Now, tell me how your audition went. I’m just dying to know” he said before stuffing his own face with chocolate chip pancakes smothered in chocolate sauce and whipped cream.

Matthew stared Alfred in the face with the absolute blankest expression he could manage while wondering how his brother was able it get whipped cream on his nose after just one bite of pancakes. “Story for a story Al” he said wiping off the cream with his finger and licking it. “How was your audition?”

Alfred wiped his hand across his nose and mumbled “Fair enough” and swallowed his mouthful. “I managed to get stuck on the ceiling at the dudes studio and had a crash landing as an entrance that nearly gave the guy a heart attack. Did my thing, got the position along with a shit ton of rules that I have to follow if I want to keep that position.  I swear that dude is such a hard ass that I’m pretty sure I have to ask permission to breathe in his studio whenever we really get started with rehearsals. But putting up with all of those rules will be worth it when I finally get to see him up close, dancing with those bright forest green eyes” Alfred had unknowingly started to drift into a dream like tone when he got around to describing Arthur’s determined eyes as he danced alone earlier that day.

Matthew heard the dreamlike tone, that was usually reserved for discussions about burgers, dance, the latest Disney and Pixar movies, and anything related to Captain America and the Avengers to his brother’s voice and looked at him in concern before deciding it was time to tease him. “Careful there bro, keep talking like that and someone might think you’re falling for him” he chuckled before taking another syrup soaked bite of pancakes.

“All right funny guy. I spilled my embarrassing tale of victory. Your turn. Tell me the juicy details.”

Matthew sighed “Fine, but remember, you asked for this. I got in. My new partner is going to take some getting used to. He’s kind of… for lack of a more adequate term, handsy and-“

“Do I need to go break some hands Mattie? Just say the word and I’ll make him eat his own perverted fingers one by one as I slowly snap his legs and-“

“Al! No, thank you. As much as I adore your brotherly displays of affection through violence inflicted on others, I would appreciate if you didn’t break my partner before I’ve had a chance to see what we can do together” Matthew said in a quick attempt at calming down his raging brother.

“Fine” Alfred pouted. “But if I catch his hands all over you, just know, he will lose several limbs before I beat him with them.” he said, staring Matthew dead in the eye to emphasize his seriousness.

“Noted. Well I’m supposed to be expecting a call from him later to get more details on what he wants to do and an official schedule that will work for both of us.”

“Lucky. I wish I could dictate my own schedule. Arthur’s schedule for me is so strict that I’m sure that I’ll never actually see the light of day on Saturdays before I have to go back in on Sundays for another marathon rehearsal.”

“If you want Francis to get friendly with your back side, be my guest. I’m sure he enjoys the challenge of pinning someone down that wants to cause him bodily harm. He looks like he’s had some serious practice with rope and handcuffs that even you wouldn’t be able to escape from. He might just keep you that way until you accept that you’ll never be free of him.”

Matthew’s description of Francis’ character was rewarded with an extremely concerned look from Alfred and the comment “You’re not making me feel any better about you spending so much time alone with him. Are you sure you don’t want me to have a discussion with him about boundaries and what happens to people who don’t respect them? I’ll even make it somewhere that no one will hear his screams. Or his bones snap.”

“Al I’ll be fine. As long as I specifically outline my boundaries I’m certain he’ll respect them unless he wants to have the police give him a much harder lesson. Plus I doubt he would go too far without my consent.”

“Just be sure to inform that if he were to go too far, you have a brother with a thousand methods for ending his life, a thousand ways to dispose of a body, a damn good lawyer, and an airtight alibi if he fucks around with my baby brother.”

“You’ll have to inform me of some of those ways of hiding a body later because honestly I didn’t even think you could count to a thousand. Now enough of this. Ready to hit they gym for the last time before we sign ourselves over to our partners?”

“Don’t sass me young man.” Alfred mumbled as he put their empty plates into the sink on top of the batter and chocolate covered bowl that started their session of brotherly bonding time. “Race ya downstairs!” he said taking a head starts.

Matthew rolled his eyes and took off after him. _Same old Alfred._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! So this chapter is brought to you by Party in your Bedroom by Cash Cash. Now with that out of the way, Is it obvious that I love the sibling relationship between Al and Mattie? Maybe it's because it's based off of my own relationship with my brother and sister. Al's over protectiveness is actually based off my brother. And the kitchen scene is loosely based off time with my sister. Also did I mention Alfred falls a lot? Moving on, after this chapter everything is going to speed up. The only reason it took this long is because I like to have all standing relationships laid out. So thanks for sticking out this long and I really hope you'll see it through to the end. Thanks to everyone that has left comments and kudos, it's nice to know that people like what I'm doing. Be sure to leave your comments and whatever. If you don't like something let me know, if you have questions let me know. I love answering them. So now that I've bored you with my rambling... again I'm gonna tap out here. See you next week! ~SgtCoolWhip


	5. Burning Miscommunication

Two weeks of intensive practice with Alfred and everything is moving absolutely splendidly. Alfred has the gist of the routine learned for his part and all that remains is for it to be learned and perfected with himself added into the equation…

Is what Arthur would like to say, if the bloody American git weren’t so fucking frustrating. He’d given Alfred a few, very reasonable, conditions and rules to follow if he wanted to work with him. So far damn near every rule and condition had been broken at least twice. Thrice in the case of showing up on time and ready for rehearsals. Arthur had even been so kind as to give him a fifteen minute grace period to either show up or inform him that he was going to be later than expected, because he knew that sometimes things just happen that are beyond an individual’s control. But the fact that the time was approaching 7:15pm when their rehearsals started at 6:30pm was far past anything that could be considered reasonable.  This event coupled with the knowledge that a cheerful yell of “ARTIE!!” and a half arsed excuse for his tardiness would signal his missing partner’s arrival prompted his latest bout of rage choreographing.

The violent tones, heavy guitar, and drum beats of Riot by Three Days Grace erupted from the speakers in the corners of his studio. The smell of sweat and anger filed the room and Arthur’s lungs, fueling his rage against Alfred.

If you feel so empty

So used up so let down

If you feel so angry

So ripped off, so stepped on

You’re not the only one

Refusing to back down

You’re not the only one

So get up

The music pulsed and rushed through Arthur’s body as he jumped hard off of the marely and side kicked the air. He landed on the floor with a heavy thump and executed a flat footed half turn. He leaned to the side, placing his left hand on the smooth and slightly scuffed gray surface, kicking his left leg into the air to stretch over his leaning body. Using the airborne leg, he twisted his himself so that he could perform a controlled fall and land in a pose that greatly reflected his irritation with stupid, unreliable, gorgeous partners and their inability to keep to their commitments.

“I really should have just done this stupid competition on my own. Then I would not be stuck dealing with fucking unreliable bloody Americans.”

“ARTIE!!! You rang?” Alfred yelled from the doorway, starling Arthur and causing him to smack the back of his head against the floor.

“Damn it! Shit! Fuck! Son of a BITCH!” Arthur exclaimed in pain, clutching his throbbing cranium and proceeded to give Alfred his fiercest glare as the American laughed boisterously.

“Ah! It’s the return of potty mouth Arthur! I was wondering where he’d gone.” Alfred said flashing his million dollar smile.

“Where in the name of fuck have you been? Our practice time is at 6:30. It is now 7:30, which means you are an hour late. I hope you have a damn good excuse for being this late and not informing me, because if you don’t you can expect the lecture of a life time and two hours tacked onto our rehearsal on Sunday!” Arthur stared at Alfred, who still had not dropped that bright, beautiful smile, and had to force his overlarge eyebrow not to twitch in irritation.

“Calm down, grumpy pants. I had something I needed to take care of before I got here.”

“And what was so important that you, once again, failed to inform me that you were going to be late?”

“It’s not really any of your business what I do when I’m not in this studio.” Alfred said masking his own irritation at being questioned. He stripped off his jacket, unveiling those golden tanned biceps and blood red tank top covered pectorals and abs that never failed to distract Arthur from his angry lecturing. “Last I checked you weren’t my mother. You aren’t my father. You literally have no major say in what I do when I’m not here. So, now that that’s out of the way, let’s get this party started.” Alfred stretched himself out in preparation for one hell of a rehearsal. He paused to listen to the music Arthur had been dancing to before he was so rudely interrupted and made a perplexed face.

Let’s start a riot, a riot

Let’s start a riot

Let’s start a riot, a riot

Let’s start a riot.

“Interesting choice in music Artie. But it doesn’t really fit you. I’d pictured something a little more like an adorable angry kitten for you” he smirked.

Arthur stalked over to Alfred with the sweetest smile in his arsenal of expressions. When he was standing face to face with him, he grabbed a fistful of that sinfully fitted red tank top, pulling Alfred even closer as he whispered dangerously “When I stick my foot so far and hard up your arsehole that it knocks that stupid little cowlick right off of your pretty blond head, will I still be an ‘adorable angry kitten’?”

“If the thought of that wasn’t so frightening, it would be a huge turn on” Alfred whispered back before being shoved onto the ground by a brightly blushing Arthur.

“If I wanted to know about your sexual proclivities I would have asked. Now hurry up and finish your prep. We’re already extremely behind schedule and I’d like to get as much done as possible so that I know what will need work for our extra two hours of rehearsal on Sunday.”

Arthur turned his back on the stupidly grinning Alfred and changed the song on his iPod from Riot to Mr. Saxobeat in order to get into the appropriate mind set for working.

You make me dance

Bring me up

Bring me down

Plays it sweet

Makes me move like a freak

Mr. Saxobeat

_I thought Alfred was going to be the answer to all of my partner related problems. He has everything I was looking for: tall, muscular, generally esthetically pleasing, energetic, and dedicated to the art of dance. It’s just his personality that drives me insane…well that and his infuriating inability to follow simple rules._

Arthur continued his musing as his body unconsciously marked its way through the solo portion of his pre-choreographed routine. He danced without really thinking about what he was doing or actually feeling the music until he felt the unwelcome presence of an arm wrapping securely around his chest and a hand resting on his hip.

_When the hell did he get over here? And how the hell did he move so quietly? Note to self: put a bell on him when he’s not looking._

Arthur tried to remove himself from the firm grasp around his body, but his attempt at escape only made Alfred more determined to hold onto him. Alfred’s hips swayed and he started grinding against Arthur, coaxing him to join in. Arthur’s hips reluctantly began to move, whether his mind wanted them to or not.

_All right Arthur, calm down and think. At some point he is going to have to loosen his grip. When he does, find your escape route. Until then follow his lead._

Adhering to the advice of his inner voice, Arthur let himself relax and follow Alfred’s lead. He began to wind his hips in time with his partner while one of his hands reached over to cover the hand resting on his hip and the other snaked up to sit on the back of Alfred’s neck. Although Arthur was letting Alfred have control there was still a part of him, the control freak part, that was not willing to relinquish the entirety of himself to the American’s whims. That part of him decided to slow down he pace of their joined movements, effectively creating a more intimate and sensual atmosphere around them. An atmosphere that only intensified when Arthur looked up into Alfred’s eyes and saw a fiery passion that scalded him down to his very core.

_Woah! Stop! Freeze! Abort mission! I repeat Abort mission! Get out of there Arthur!_ His inner voice shrieked in panic as Alfred began to lean in toward his face, much too close for comfort.

Following the direction of his panicking intuition that had never lead him astray, he pushed his rear end into Alfred’s pelvis and leaning his torso forward, knocking Alfred off balance. When the collapsing Alfred extended his legs to steady himself once again Arthur seized his chance and elongated his body and slid between Alfred’s legs to stand behind him. While Alfred was still distracted Arthur kicked him hard in the butt causing Alfred to fall forward and almost have another lip locking session with the studio floor.

_NO! Not again!_ Alfred’s mind screamed

He tucked his body into a ball and caught himself in a front roll that gave him enough momentum to get back to his feet. He reached back and grabbed Arthur’s wrist, swinging him to his right side.

Hey sexy boy, set me free

Don’t be so shy, play with me

My dirty boy, can’t you see

That you belong next to me

Hey sexy boy, set me free

Don’t be so shy, play with me

My dirty boy, can’t you see

You are the one I need

Arthur’s body, so used to following his pre-set routine, began moving on its own once again. He grasped Alfred’s wrist as he swung himself out to the full extent of both of their arms before spinning back into his blue eyed partner’s waiting arms. He rolled his hips in time with Alfred’s twice, and then stepped around his body; winding half way around him like Alfred was a sexy, strong stripper pole. He followed his laid out choreography almost as naturally as a leaf floating on the wind.

_Why is this happening? I’m supposed to be the one in control here! Why the hell does this man have the ability to make me lose myself like this?! It’s been so long since I’ve felt like this though. The way we’re moving, so in sync with each other, almost reminds me of…no, he’s gone and I’m never going to think of him again. I need to stop this._

Throughout his mental conversation/ argument with himself Arthur’s body continued to follow his choreography.

You make me dance

Bring me up

Bring me down

Play it sweet

Makes me move like a freak

Mr. Saxobeat

As the music reach its conclusion, Arthur’s traitor of a body decided that instead of landing in the final position that he intended on using for the end of this particular piece, it wanted to once again be pressed flesh to flesh against Alfred with his leg wrapped tightly around his waist. By the time his mind grew privy to what was happening, he was nose to nose with Alfred. If this were a normal situation he wouldn’t have been as concerned. But as terrified and confused forest green eyes met blazing baby blues, all feelings of normality made a quick and sneaky exit through the front door.

“Hey there.” Cool, peppermint scented breath brushed across his lips, soft as a lovers kiss, drawing Arthur in. Luckily for Arthur, his mind was now back in full control and was set on absolute fucking panic mode.

“Unhand me!” Arthur’s usually carefully covered British accent made a sudden appearance, a testament to how nervous he was after the spark he felt between them mere seconds beforehand. He snatched himself out of Alfred’s grasp while simultaneously attempting to unwind his leg from his waist. The end result was Arthur landing on his butt and staring up at a partner that was trying his hardest to look sympathetic, and failing miserably, as an amused smirk cracked his mask of concern.

“You okay dude?” a chuckle crept into his voice against his will as he offered a hand to help Arthur stand. A hand that was harshly swatted away. “What the hell bro? All I’m trying to do is help!”

“Out.” Arthur mumbled getting to his feet.

“What?”

“Get. Out.” Arthur said in a voice that barely concealed the wide range of emotions beating around in his chest. He began shoving Alfred toward the exit, desperate to be alone to sort through everything that had just happened.

“Fine, I’ll leave. But can I at least get my jacket?” He asked as he was forced out on to the sidewalk. Arthur disappeared briefly and reappeared throwing the jacket in Alfred’s face. Without pausing to see if the disgruntled young man had everything that he entered the studio with, Arthur slammed and locked the door before retreating into an interior room in his studio to sit in a corner and think about what he had just done.

_What the royal fuck did I just do? I just pushed out my chance at victory and I have no idea if he’ll ever come back. Especially after how I just treated him._

Arthur sat with his head in his hands lamenting the choices he’s made that evening. Suddenly, a chiming sound rang through the room breaking the oppressive silence. After a quick scan of the area he spotted the source of the chiming, a cellphone left on the floor. Arthur picked it up, determined to silence the device so that he could continue his brooding. What met his eye when he turned the phone so he could shut it off was a text message.

**Thank you so much for picking your grandmother up from the airport. She was so excited to see her little Alfie after so long. Make sure you and Mattie come by so she can take tons of pictures for her friends back home to brag about her big handsome grandsons.**

**Love Mom**

_He could have just said something. I wouldn’t have yelled at him about his tardiness if I knew he had a commitment to keep with his family._

Arthur walked back to the door to see if Alfred was still there looking for his phone. After a few minutes of waiting he determined that Alfred may not have realized that his phone was missing yet. But once he did, hopefully he would return to pick it up so that Arthur could apologize for his horrendous behavior.

* * *

 

The next day, Alfred stood outside of the studio to retrieve his phone. He realized it was missing when he was about half way home the night before, but he didn’t want to return to the studio for fear of saying or doing something that he would later regret. When he set foot inside the dance hall he expected to be greeted by the irritated voice of Arthur as he forced himself to work harder on some project that was already perfected by most master dancer’s standards. What he did not anticipate, however, was Arthur’s lightly accented voice sounding in a gentle and patient tone and the laughter of several young children.

“Peter, Wendy, I would love to know what it is you find so funny.”

“It’s not you we’re laughing at Arthur,” a young male voice replied.

“Yeah. Marcello keeps making faces behind you” a young female voice finished.

As Alfred stood in the doorway of the central room, the scene before him caused his face to break into a soft smile. Arthur stood in the center of a small group of four children, three boys and a lone girl. One of the boys had pale blond hair that almost seem gray and a set of eye brows that could give Arthur’s a run for their money. The second had long pale blond hair that was a little closer to silver and was tied back in two braided pigtails; he was also the only one wearing puffy blue shorts over his tiny thin legs and a maroon beret. The final boy had patchy clothes that looked handmade and dark brown hair that stuck out on the sides in a style that reminded him vaguely of Angelica Pickles from Rugrats. The lone girl in the mix had light brunette hair in a side ponytail, bound by a shiny red ribbon; over her shoulders she wore a powder puff pink sweater to cover her arms. Arthur standing in the center of them looking every bit the gentle teacher made the scene adorable. But what made it hilarious was the brownish red haired teenager hanging upside down from the ceiling with a wide smile and a wink. 

Arthur shaking his head and trying his very hardest not to laugh asked “Marcello… how exactly did you get up there?”

The brownish red haired teenager, Marcello Arthur had called him, replied with a slight Italian accent “Oh well you know… That one way.”

“Arthur!” A disembodied voice echoed throughout the room. “I can’t see what’s happening! Tilt the screen!!” Arthur walked over to a laptop sitting on a folding chair that Alfred had failed to notice due to the situation in the center of the room. He adjusted the screen and moved out of the way. On the laptop Alfred saw yet another young boy with light ginger hair and either a scar under his right eye or the glare from a window, it was hard to tell from the angle he was standing on.

“How’s that Kristoffer?” Arthur smiled gently at the screen as he backed toward the scene of the commotion.

“Arrrthuuuur I told you to call me Kristoff! Oh hey, Marcello! You made it around Arthur Ceiling Prevention Plan 4! Congratulations!” The boy on the screen, Kristoff, _Oh God there are so many Frozen jokes coming!,_ smiled and waved at his classmates. “I wish I was there but Uncle Berwald needed me here for the week! I hate missing things! I can’t wait to see what Arthur Ceiling Prevention Plan 5 is!”

“Marc will never get through that one! Arthur’s plans always get better!” Peter spoke up inching closer to Arthur only to be tripped by the only girl is this merry band of misfits.

“Oh shut it Peter! You can’t even explain how he got up there.” Wendy crossed her arms over her chest, discretely covering a small piece of candy in her hand and slipping it into an inner pocket of her jacket.

Arthur turned his attention to the brown haired Angelica boy, “ Since Peter and Wendy seem to be more adsorbed in arguing, Nicolae, did you see how he got up there?”

Nicolae attempted to cover his smile as he was stared down by Arthur. “No Arthur. I didn’t see anything.” He didn’t sound convincing in the least. Arthur continued to stare him down trying to hide his own smile and Nicolae covered his mouth with the long sleeve covering his arm, stiffing a giggle.

“Good Job Nicolae. Franz, give him candy.” The dangling teenager addressed the pigtailed boy who pulled a small chocolate from his beret and tossed it to the brunet boy. 

“You and I will be having another discussion about hiding candy later. But for now, Franz you’re my only hope. Can you shed some light on the mystery of Marcello’s acrobatic display?” He directed his gaze to the young boy with the pale blond braided pigtails as he spoke up over the cheering Nicolae as he devoured his candy and reached out for another.

“It… it was ART!! As an artist I cannot reveal the technique of a fellow artist! THE BEAUTY OF HIS TECHIQUE SURPASSES THAT OF ALL OF YOUR GLORIOUS ATTEMPTS TO STOP HIM!!! AAAAAAARRRRTTTT!!!!!” Franz exclaimed with a somewhat crazed look in his eye.

“Thank you Franz. So nice to have ones work appreciated.” Marcello chuckled and swung back and forth causing the light fixture he was dangling from to move with him.

Arthur face palmed and mumbled “Why did I expect anything different?” He dropped his hand but not his smile and spoke up so that all of his students could hear him “Fine, I guess I don’t really need to know. Marcello would you please come down so that we may go over everything we’ve learned today?”

Marcello flipped himself upright and jumped own onto Earth with the rest of the human population “No problem.”

“One day I will figure out how you keep getting up there every week.”

“Good luck with that Arthur. I never use the same method twice.”

_I guess even Artie has his playful side._ Alfred thought watching the as the group ran through what seemed to be the beginnings of a simple jazz piece.

“Okay my dears, that’s all for today. Keep practicing and I’ll see you next week.” Arthur smiled and waved in dismissal.

“Bye Arthur!” All of his students exclaimed as they made their way past Alfred to the waiting outside world. Alfred could hear discussions about art (Not really discussions, more like rantings and crunching on candy) as the students rushed past him out the door. Arthur turned his back with a fond smile and began to shut down the studio for the day.

_Well it’s now or never…_

“Um Arthur?” Alfred said loudly enough that it would gain the ash blonds attention but, hopefully not scare him…again.

Arthur flinched slightly and turned to the entry way “Oh… hello Alfred.”

“I uh think I left my phone here last night” Alfred said feeling increasingly awkward.

“You… you did. I’ll go get it, just wait one minute” Arthur replied mirroring Alfred’s awkward tone. He shuffled into an interior room that Alfred assumed was his office. Upon returning about thirty seconds later Arthur held Alfred’s missing cell phone in his hand.

“Thank you”

“You’re welcome.” They both fell into a silence that neither one knew exactly how to fill. They both had so much that they wanted to say but when it came down to time to let it out the words fled from them. 

“Arthur I-“

“Alfred I-“

They both paused and stared at each other trying to decide who should speak first. Alfred unable to cope with the awkward atmosphere any longer opened the flood gates and let the buildup of words flow from his lips like a rushing river.

“Arthur, I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting over the past few weeks. Especially yesterday. I never really was any good with following rules and having so many of them dumped on me at one time makes me just want to break as many of them as possible in one go. Even so that is no excuse for how I’ve been acting so, sorry.”

“Alfred I should be the one apologizing. How I’ve been treating you is no better than the way you reacting in response. I also want to apologize for not giving you the opportunity to explain yourself yesterday. I behaved deplorably and I shall not let it happen again.”

“Guess we both kinda acted like jerks huh?” Alfred asked sheepishly.

“I guess so.” Arthur replied blushing.

“Can we try this whole thing again? I promise I’ll hold to the rules better this time.”

“And I’ll try not to be as much of a control freak. Deal?”

“Deal.” Alfred offered his hand which Arthur accepted and shook. After exchanging promises to see each other the next day at rehearsal Alfred departed with a better outlook for the next few weeks and an idea brewing in the back of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! So this weeks chapter has been brought to you by Riot by Three Days Grace and Mr. Saxobeat by Alexandra Stan. This week we got to meet some of my favorite characters to write, The Micronations! Yay!. So here's a list of who's who. Everyone knows who Peter is. but:  
> Wendy-Wy (Yes I did do that in reference to Peter Pan)  
> Marcello- Seborga  
> Franz-Kuglemugle  
> Nicolae-Moldova  
> Kristoffer/Kristoff- Ladonia (Yes there will be references to Frozen)  
> So we've finally got movement on Arthur and Alfred. I did say things were going to move pretty quickly. So anyone have any guesses what's going to happen next? I know, but I'm not telling. But do please share your theories. Thanks to everyone who has left their kudos and comments they are greatly appreciated. Please feel free to continue to do so and tell me what you think! Okay is that everything? I think that's everything. I'm gonna just scoot on out before the rambling gets too bad. See you next week ~Sgt. CoolWhip


	6. Toxic Clouds

Ohonhonhon~ Mon petit Matthew, have I ever told you how much I adore that you're so flexible? It's giving me quite a few ideas of ways I can make use of your lovely legs" Francis mumbled, nipping gently at Matthew's earlobe as Matthew executed an attitude around Francis' waist behind him. Francis, unable to resist, placed a hand at Matthew's bent knee and slowly ran it up his inner thigh as his other hand turned Matthew's face so that lavender eyes met light ocean blue. A mischievous, almost predatory smirk crept across his face as the hand on his darling Matthew's inner thigh eased its way closer to his nether regions.

 _Normally he would have pulled away by now. C'est magnifique! He must be letting me know that he is ready to go further. My darling, I'm more than willing to go where ever you want me to_.

His thoughts for his future plans for Matthew continued as his hand finally reached its destination. His wandering hands were rewarded with a nearly silent gasp of surprise and delicate fingers, which had previously been gently winding in his golden blond hair, suddenly tightening in a death grip on the roots attached to his scalp. His eyes, previously glazed over with desire, snapped back to focus. What greeted him were lavender eyes that glinted dangerously as his errant hand was smacked harshly.

"Didn't I tell you to behave during rehearsal?" Matthew whispered as he slipped behind Francis in a serpent like manner.

"Désolé mon cher, but it is so difficult to resist temptation when it is wrapped around you like the serpent from the garden of Eden." Francis peered over his shoulder at the face of the man that had been keeping him on his toes for nearly three weeks. In all the time that they had spent together, Francis had yet to figure anything out about the walking mystery that was Matthew Williams, yet Matthew had him pegged like he had read the user's guide.

"I guess someone doesn't want their prize for good behavior then. Which is such a shame considering what it is." Francis turned to face the object of his confusion and desire and found him rolling up and adjusting his already deliciously tight and short dance shorts so that the legs stopped at the tops of his beautifully pale thighs.

_Merde! I need to figure him out. The fact that he can play me like a gorgeous blond violin and I can't even touch him is getting to be too much to bear._

He pulled Matthew into his arms and gazed down at his sweetly smiling face. "If I behave for the rest of rehearsal, will I still be able to receive my prize?"

"We'll just have to see, won't we?"

_Temptation, thy name is Matthew Williams._

No matter how much Francis wanted to get more than just his hands all over that devious little minx, he knew that if he didn't behave himself until the end of rehearsal he wouldn't get to touch him at all, which would be incredibly upsetting after what he felt through Matthew's shorts. So just like almost every rehearsal since their first week, he was trapped in Matthew's game and he wasn't quite sure if he wanted to be free. Mindful of where his hand on Matthew's back was, he pulled Matthew closer to his chest and tilted his chin up so that if he were to lean down just far enough, their lips would meet.

Francis smiled endearingly into Matthew's lavender eyes "Darling, I'm beginning to wonder which one of us is really the poisonous one."

"If I am the poisonous one now, I blame your bad influence. Not saying that's a bad thing though. It is rather fun watching you squirm for a bit" Matthew chuckled with a roll of his pelvis against Francis's groin.

"Tease" Francis growled predatorily.

"Thank you. Now let's get this started so you can have your reward. I can feel how badly you want it" Matthew replied unashamedly, nodding down at the increasingly obvious bulge in Francis's pants resting between them.

Francis pushed himself away from Matthew to start the song that Matthew thought described Francis and vice versa.

Baby, can't you see

I'm calling

A guy like you

Should wear a warning

It's dangerous

I'm falling

As the voice of Brittney Spears drifted from the speakers, Francis stood behind Matthew and wrapped his arms around Matthew's waist. He glanced down over Matthew's shoulder and met the lavender irises that he had come adore. Matthew smirked up into ocean colored orbs as he melted out of Francis's grasp and spun just barely out of reach. Francis cross stepped in Matthew's direction, stopping within catching distance of a falling Matthew.

There's no escape , I can't wait

I need a hit, baby give me it

You're dangerous

I'm lovin it

Matthew latched onto Francis' left hand and rolled over his arm onto the floor. With the gleam in his eye that appeared whenever they went over this part of the routine, he pulled Francis down so that he hovered over his body.

_Hold it together Francis. Hold. It. TOGETHER. It will all be worth it if that prize is what I think it is. Just have to hold on for a few more minutes. Be strong Francis. Be Strong!_

 

Francis pulled Matthew up against himself and felt a hand brush against his thigh. Matthew was trying to tempt him but Francis refused to take a bite of the forbidden fruit. Not until the right time. He refused to be denied a reward for good behavior. However, unbeknownst to Francis, Matthew had no intentions of denying him anything.

* * *

 

Despite his constantly wandering hands and rather perverse comments, Francis was a gentleman and very cautious of Matthew's reaction. But it was that cautious behavior that was about to drive Matthew up a wall. Every move that he made to let Francis know that it was okay for him to do whatever he wanted, Francis would pull back and Matthew would be left annoyed and slightly more frustrated than when they started. If what he had planned for today didn't work, he was just going to show up naked at his door and push him over.

With the taste of your lips,I'm on a ride

You're toxic, I'm slippin under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I'm addicted to you, don't you know that you're toxic?

Matthew wrapped his arms around Francis' neck and pulled himself up so that they were body to body. He let Francis take his weight and swing him out from between his legs. He took hold of Francis's shoulders as he continued soaring above his head and let gravity take over as he landed behind Francis. They stood back to back, moving simultaneously. Both dancers pushed away from each other, only staying connected by a single hand. They both suddenly snapped back together , face to face, as if by magnetic force. Hips continuously moved together, sending small shivers up Matthew's spine from their connected groins.

_I've got to finish this. I don't know how much longer I can keep up this "holding back" routine before I attack this man._

Matthew turned his back to Francis and executed an attitude around his waist in the same way that started this doubly stressful game between the two. Francis gently grabbed the flesh above Matthew's knee, using that hand and the arm around Matthew's waist to support him as Matthew lifted his other foot. Matthew slithered around Francis to stand behind him and wrapped his arms around Francis's neck.

"Let's stop here. We'll pick it back up another day. I think it's about time for your reward." Matthew whispered into Francis' ear, nipping at the outer shell of his ear.

"Does my prize have anything to do with the reason you're going commando right now? If it does, then I'm really looking forward to it" Francis turned and pulled Matthew flush against him, feeling free to let his hands wander.

"It does, but you wouldn't have known that if you could control your hands. But that's irrelevant right now." Matthew started walking backward, pulling Francis with him into the back storage room.

"I like where this going." Francis tilted Matthew's chin up as he started leaning in toward his lips.

"Good. I think you'll like the end result even more." Matthew pressed his lips against Francis'. If they could have forced themselves any closer to each other they would've. In lieu of that, Matthew took a step back and fell onto the stack of mats Francis kept in storage for practicing lifts and tosses and dragged Francis down without separating their lips. As Matthew's back made contact with the soft yet firm surface, his mouth opened in a gasp that Francis' tongue immediately took advantage of by tangling itself with Matthew's in a dance, far more intimate that the one they were just working on.

 _Perfect_. Matthew thought as he started winding his fingers into Francis's golden blond locks and his other hand began pushing Francis's shirt up his back, desiring for the accursed piece of fabric to be as far away from this gorgeous blond masterpiece as possible. Francis seemed to be having the exact same thought as one of his hands found its way up the front of Matthew's tank top and brushed across a rapidly hardening nipple.

* * *

 

"Ah." Matthew paused his tearing off of Francis' clothes as he threw his head back at the sudden pressure on the surprisingly sensitive flesh.

Francis, after witnessing that reaction, hastened his pace of eliminating the barrier of cloth keeping him from the pale expanse of Matthew's chest. He continued teasing the nipple , rolling and pressing with his fingers as his lips and tongue traced a path down Matthew's neck, occasionally leaving a hickey before continuing on. His lips finally found their way to Matthew's unoccupied nipple and his tongue snaked out to meet it. The gasp that escaped Matthew's parted lips urged Francis on and he began to suck and nibble on the delicate bud before his tongue ran over the skin to soothe any damage his teeth were doing. His free hand decided to make friends with gasping and quietly moaning Matthew's inner thigh. He massaged the soft flesh traveling up toward his crotch as he went. His hand reached its final destination as his lips and finger switched locations on Matthew's chest.

"Ah…Francis!" Matthew rolled his hips, forcing his growing erection into Francis's palm to gain more friction. His moaning voice vibrated off of the store room walls and rang in Francis's ears, sending a wave of heat down to his bulging manhood. Abandoning Matthew's slowly swelling nipples; Francis kissed and licked a trail down Matthew's abs to the top of his shorts covered hips. He left a series of marks across Matthew's waist as one hand held his hips in place and the other continued massaging the straining flesh beneath the material as a bit revenge for the teasing Matthew did in the middle of rehearsal.

"Francis! Ah… Stop Teasing!" Matthew moaned in frustration, desperately trying to roll his hips to gain more of the delicious friction that was being denied to him.

"Non non non mon cher. You'll get what you want after a little payback for earlier. You need to know exactly what you put me through before you get your release. I'm sure you understand, darling."

"Ple…ah…please Francis! I'm sorry! I won't do it again…just…ah fuck…please!"

Francis, finally deciding to have a little mercy on his poor little Matthew, eased his shorts down and off his legs, relieving some of the pressure off of Matthew's erection with them.

The sigh of relief had barely left Mathew's throat before a moan of pleasure bubbled up right after it. The moist, rough surface of Francis's tongue ran from base to tip up the underside of Matthew's cock. He repeated this for both the left and right side before kissing a path up to each hip and back.

"FRANCIS!" Matthew whined attempting to move his hips, still held down by the Frenchman. 

"Détends-toi, Matthew" Francis breathed against Matthew's tip, causing the naked dirty blond to shiver. " Allow me to finish sampling first. Don't want to indulge too quickly, oui?" He kissed the tip and smirked as Matthew let out a strangled moan. He finally took the tip into the warm moist cavern of his mouth and teased his slit with his tongue.

"Ah! Francis…Yes!" Matthew groaned as Francis descended onto his throbbing manhood. Francis began bobbing his head, taking more and more of Matthew in with each descent and taking immense pleasure in the desire soaked moans and gasps of his name as his tongue over some of his darling's most sensitive places. Francis pulled back, letting Matthew slip from between his lips as he started the popsicle treatment once again, before releasing Matthew's hips as he descended, to buck and roll in his mouth.

"Oh God Francis!" Matthew felt the familiar bunching in his gut that let him know that release was imminent. His manhood slipped in and out of the lips that had been the lips that had been the object of his late night fantasies as he inched closer and closer to oblivion.

"Hello? Francis, are you in here?" A female voice rang out from the studio main room.

"Francis, amigo! I know you're here. Come on out. You know we had plans with Gil today!" a male with a Spanish accent and a slight lisp soon followed.

Francis pulled back and froze in a panic at the two voices he really didn't want to hear at that moment. If the people out there had been anyone else he would have ignored them and continued his activities with the lovely horny creature beneath him but Michelle and Antonio tended to be nosy and persistent, and in his current position he'd rather anyone but them see him and Matthew. Matthew groaned in disappointment at the loss of the moist heat around his dick. Francis slapped a hand over his mouth a fraction of a second too late and prayed that his two guests didn't hear anything.

"Did you hear something?" Michelle inquires much to the chagrin of Francis.

 _Damnit Michelle! Of all the times for you to actually be able to hear what's going on._ Francis glared at the store room door before turning toward Matthew with a pleading look in his ocean blue eyes. The passionate fire that had been burning in the lavender orbs was extinguished as rolled them and started getting dressed.

"Hold on señorita, I'll try calling him. He might not be able to hear us."

"No need Antoine, I'm right here" Francis said tying his hair back and looking at the two people that had interrupted one of the best moments of his week. "Michelle, what can I do for you?"

The long, dark brunette haired woman looked at her slightly disheveled company director and got the impression that she had interrupted something she really shouldn't have. She nervously wrung her hands in the knee length skirt of her pale blue dress. "I um…think I left my pointe shoes here. Did you see them? I'm sorry if I interrupted anything."

"This is the eighth time this month Michelle. Next time I'm tying them to your pigtails after rehearsal." Francis pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation.

"Calm down Francis. I'm sure it was just a mistake. Let her get her shoes and you can finish up whatever you were do-" Antonio cut his sentence short as a very aggravated Matthew walked out of the same door Francis had previously exited. "Oh…"

All eyes were on Matthew as he made his way to the exit with a short "Bye Francis." Matthew walked out, slamming the door hard enough to crack the glass paneling.

Michelle started apologizing profusely as Antonio continued to stare at the door and Francis face palmed.

_Matthew is never going to forgive me for this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello darling readers! This chapter is brought to you by Toxic by Britney Spears. So this actually is my favorite chapter. It just kind of wrote itself and I was along for the ride. Also this choreography is definitely in my top five and it's not even finished yet! Two points to the people that know who Michelle is! Now before any of y'all start yelling at me about how this ended, it does get better. But if you're going to yell at me anyway. Do your worst! I can take it! Many thanks to everyone leaving kudos and comments! They always brighten up my week. Please continue to do so. If you have something to say please just tell me. So now that I've done my rambling for the week, I'm gonna just hit that ole dusty trail. See you next week! ~SgtCoolWhip


	7. Meet me at the Dutchman (And don't ask questions)

“Hey Arthur?” Alfred sat on the floor of the studio, wiping the sweat off of his forehead with his stars and stripes towel, watching Arthur down half of his water bottle.

“Hmm?” responded the ash blond without removing the bottle from his pouty pale pink lips. Four hours of rehearsing intensively left both blonds slightly exhausted but very much pleased with the progress being made. After clearing the air from the fight they’d had the previous week, everything appeared to be smooth sailing. Alfred kept his promise to follow the rules and Arthur did his best not to behave like an overly controlling cunt sack.

“Are you doing anything after this?” The nervous tremble in his voice indicated to Arthur that the blue eyed young man was hoping for a no.

_Wonder what’s on the lads mind._ Arthur lowered his, now empty, water bottle and turned his attention to the young man still seated on the floor.

“Not really. Why?” The green eyed man inquired, noting the faint blush creeping up on the honey blond man’s golden tanned cheeks.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go somewhere with me. It’s not a date or anything. I just wanted to do something fun and I thought you might want to, too.” The blush on his cheeks rose over his ears as he started rambling.

“I haven’t seen you this flustered since you came crashing down from my ceiling.” Arthur had to resist the urge to burst out laughing at the indignant look in those baby blue eyes that he was quite fond of.

“You promised you wouldn’t bring that up anymore!” At the whiny, childish tone coming from the 6 foot tall, muscular male pouting on the ground, Arthur lost his shit. He doubled over as the laughter caused a cramp in his side and Alfred’s whine of “Arthuuuuuuur!” was not helping.

Gasping for breath Arthur responded “I’m sorry Alfred. What is it you want to do tonight? We’ve been working pretty hard; some fun might do us some good.”

“Glad to hear it. A friend invited me to a club where he’s working tonight. It’s supposed to be a fun crowd, especially on Saturday nights.”

“I don’t know Alfred. I don’t really do well with clubs. I might have to pass on this one. I’m sure you can ask someone else that might be a little more fun.”

“Come on, pleeeeeeease Arthur? I promise it’ll be really really fun. If you don’t like it I’ll take you back home. Scouts honor! Please?” He widened his eyes as he begged.

_How the bloody hell does he make his eyes so damned blue? It’s like he knows they’re my weakness. The fact that when he pokes his lip out like that when he begs is not helping my cause. He looks like an abandoned puppy! Ugh. Can’t believe I’m about to do this._

“All right! I’ll go! Just stop it with the eyes!” He conceded, looking anywhere but at the American that looked like he very much wanted to hug him.

“You mean it? Sweet! You’ll have a great time Arthur! I know it.” Alfred got up and looked like he was going to break into a victory dance. “Oh dude, I’m gonna need you address so I can pick you up.” Arthur sighed in defeat before typing the desired information into the phone being shoved into his hand.

“I guess we can stop practice here. You look too excited to focus and I think it best if I rest up before you keep me out all night.” Arthur started shutting down the studio as Alfred began packing up to leave.

“I’ll see you at 9!” he called as he made his exit. Once outside and a safe distance from the door he pulled his phone out, dialed a number, and put the phone up to his ear. “Hey Fe, he’s in…Yeah, it didn’t take as long as I thought. Did Lars and Tor stock up?... Good, and Vash has the playlist I sent right?... Perfect…Oh really? Make sure Ivan knows I’m coming then… Yeah yeah, I’ll see you tonight Fe.” As he finished the call, he climbed into his car and drove home to plan out his outfit for that night, pleased that everything else was falling into place.

* * *

Matthew sat back on his couch with his second mug of coffee with maple syrup that day. Saturday, being his day off, was normally a relaxing thing but lately his usually free mind was filled with thoughts of his stressful encounters with Francis after the storage room incident. Francis had been walking on eggshells around Matthew for the past week and Matthew was on the verge of either strangling him or dragging him by his luscious golden hair into the storage room and finishing what they had started.

He let out a deep sigh, taking another sip of his coffee. The silence surrounding him was bordering on unbearable, but playing music recently just lead to even more thoughts of Francis. Thoughts that were so far from tame that they tended to lead to Matthew’s hands taking a page out of Francis’s book, except they wouldn’t stop halfway, and Matthew didn’t really feel like the clean up after further frustrating himself.

_Wonder if anyone is gonna be out tonight. I think I need to be around people. Al seemed pretty excited about his plans for tonight. Maybe he won’t mind if I tag along for a while. I really just need to get out of here._

As Matthew reached for his phone to persuade (demand) that his brother let him tag along in his fun, there was a heavy knock on his door. He shuffled his way over to the door and opened it without checking the identity of the individual interrupting his planning of crashing other people’s plans. Matthew didn’t know who he was expecting to be on the other side of his door, his brother coming to raid his fridge and his closet (in that order), one of his neighbors, an alien, anyone but the ocean blue eyed Frenchman that had been occupying his mind.

“Hi Matthew, Do you mind if I come in?”

Matthew, still in a state of shock, stepped aside to let Francis into his domain. Francis stepped into the apartment, taking in Matthew’s taste and smiling in approval. His eyes roamed over Matthew’s body. “You look well. That’s good.” Francis made himself comfortable on the couch Matthew had recently evacuated. Finally having collected himself, Matthew joined Francis on the couch, wearing a mask of confusion, concern, and a pinch of desire.

“Why are you here a Francis? Today is my day off.”

“Precisely why I am here mon petit fraise.” Francis scooted a bit closer to Matthew, breaking out the dazzling ‘convince-you-to-do-anything’ smile that lead to their game of sexual frustration chicken. Matthew, still somewhat irritated with Francis’ behavior over the past week, moved further away from him and knocked into the arm rest.

“Just tell me what you want. I’m not in the mood for your games right now. Spit it out and get out of my apartment.”

“Matthew, darling, I’m sorry about last week. I didn’t know those two were coming. I want to make it up to you. Will you come out with me today? We’ll do whatever you want, just please give me a chance.”

_Guess I’ve made him suffer enough…for now. I’ll give him a chance. Hmm might be time to call in that favor._

“Fine Francis. I’ll go on this date, but you pick what we do during the day. I’ve got plans for tonight. You can come along if you think you can handle it.” Matthew threw him a challenging sidelong glance as he walked into his bedroom to get dressed. “I’ll be ready in ten. Hope you have something fun planned.”

“Of course, mon cher. I’ll be downstairs waiting.” Matthew waited until he heard the door close before holding his phone up to his ear, waiting for the recipient of the call to pick up.

“Hey Toris, it’s Matt… I need a favor… Oh, is that right? Well allow me to tell you a story… You brought this on yourself. Once upon a time there was this Lithuanian man with a Polish boyfriend that liked to party. On a few occasions the Lithuanian man’s boyfriend invaded his friend Matt’s apartment. On one of these occasions, the Polish man came to Matt’s apartment in five inch spikes and hot pants, drunk off his ass, convinced that he could be Matt’s personal dietitian. After a brief struggle, the Polish man poured all of Matt’s special maple syrup all over his freshly cleaned white carpet, puked, then passed out. His Lithuanian boyfriend promised his friend a favor in exchange for taking care of his drunken boyfriend. A favor that had yet to be called in… Figured you’d see it my way. I’ll be there at 10. Pull out the good French wine. You know the one you have been saving for when you need to bribe me to do something like watch Fe when he’s drunk… See you then Tor.” He hung up before hurrying to get dressed and meet Francis.

* * *

The pounding of the bass from the brick walls of the club that they were approaching vibrated up Arthur’s skinny jean clad legs as he unconsciously matched his steps to the beat. The sign for the Flying Dutchman flashed neon lights, making both Arthur and the blue eyed young man that dragged him on this little adventure squint as they got closer to the door.

“What kind of club is this Alfred? I’ve never heard of it.” He turned his head to his companion for the evening and was once again struck by the masculine beauty that is Alfred F. Jones. Dressed in low slung black skinny jeans, a white sleeveless shirt with ‘Hero Time’ scrawled diagonally across the torso with black letters, and black and white checkered vans, Alfred looked like a party god. That stacked on top of the model physique and the boyishly charming face, made it almost impossible for Arthur not to imagine doing unmentionable things to that honey blond Adonis.

“No worries Arthur. Everyone here is cool and you’ll have a great time.” Alfred was practically yelling as they got to the door, completely by passing the line people seeking entrance. The bright smile that Alfred was sporting got even brighter as he belted out a cheerful “Yo Ivan!”

“Alfred, comrade, it has been a while.” If Arthur thought Alfred was an armored tank of muscle, he couldn’t possibly fathom how to describe Ivan. Standing in the traditional all black, with the exception  of a five foot long gray scarf, of bouncers everywhere was a gray haired giant Russian with an innocent face that could have rivalled Alfred’s own and… was that a metal pipe on his hip?!

“Arthur this is my buddy Ivan.”

“It is great pleasure to meet a friend of Alfred” The Russian extended an enormous hand that could have easily engulfed Arthur’s own several times over. The innocent smile on his face never faltered as he put a death grip on Arthur’s poor delicate fingers.

“Pleasure.” Arthur winced as his hand was released.

Turning his attention back to Alfred, the jolly Russian giant waved them in with a “Feliks said to see him at the bar!”

The smell of sweat and the sight of slowly grinding and gyrating bodies surrounded the blonds as Alfred dragged Arthur  over to the bar, pausing to wave at the blank faced wheat blond DJ bobbing his head in time with the saxophone rhythm of Talk Dirty to Me in front of the Swiss flag.

“Hey Alfred, how many people do you know in this place?”

“Just a few.” Alfred’s innocent smile shifted into a mysterious, amused one as if sharing a private joke with everyone in the club with the exception of Arthur.

“Al! What, like, took you so long to get here? I totally thought you like decided to ditch me when I brought out like all of you faves.”

“Sup Fe” Alfred responded to the individual yelling at them from across the bar. Arthur knew the voice he heard was definitely male, but the person they were approaching was wearing a neon pink tube top and a matching bow in her shoulder length blond hair.

“So is this the guy? He’s like totally cute!” Directing her attention to the growing more confused by the second Arthur, he shouted over the music with a smile “I’m Feliks, a friend of Al’s. He’s told me, like, so much about you. You’re totes more adorable than this idiot gave you credit for.”

Ignoring Alfred’s exclamation of “FELIKS!” and desiring to not be rude, Arthur put on a sociable smile and replied “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well Feliks.”

“Oh, a gentleman too? Hang on to this one Al or someone here will snatch him away.”

“Don’t you have work to do?” Alfred, trying his hardest to appear unruffled, dragged Arthur toward the dance floor.

“That was rather rude of you. She was just trying to be friendly.” Arthur wasn’t even going to pretend that he wasn’t thoroughly amused by Alfred’s discomfort. Seeing the man that put him on edge, more often than not, squirm was one of the very few joys in his life other than his students. So he was going to savor being in a place with someone else who could torment his partner as much as humanly possible.

“Two things. First, that was not funny dude. Second, Feliks is a guy. He just happens to like girls clothes. Don’t know how he walks in those heels all night though.”

Arthur had stopped listening at the knowledge of Feliks’ sex. “A guy?!” he exclaimed in alarm. He took a closer look around the dance floor in front of them and immediately noticed that the short black haired, presumably Asian, person dancing between the tanned man with the mask and the sleepy looking brown haired man with the cat tattooed on his uncovered pectoral, grinding his rear against the masked man and arms around cat tattoo guy pulling him in so that they were body to body, was a little too flat and not curvy enough to be female. He continued scanning the room and took note of all of the people dancing, drinking, kissing, and… the pale white haired man and his darker haired partner, with a familiar looking curl on the top of their head, performing illicit acts in the corner of the room were all male. “What the bloody fuck kind of club did you bring me to? I thought it was weird with the bouncer with the pipe on his hip, but Feliks being a guy and… and every fucking thing here! What in the name of all things fucking normal made you think I wanted to be here…” Arthur continued his rambling and screaming until he started to hyperventilate.

“Dude, calm down.” Alfred stood in front of the spazzing out brit and wrapped his arms around his waist. “Calm down. You freaking out in exactly why you’re here right now. You need to pull some of your barriers down and have some fun. I’ve been working with you for a while and I noticed that whenever something is out of you comfort zone you try to shut it out and run. Not tonight, you’re getting out of that zone, loosening up, and having a good time, okay?” As Alfred explained, he felt more than saw Arthur calm down and breathe normally.

“Okay.” Arthur straightened his short sleeved pale green button up and wriggled out of Alfred’s arms.

“Good. Now, may I have this dance? I picked the playlist for tonight so nothing crazy should happen. Then again, Vash is DJ-ing so there’s no telling when he’ll deviate.” Alfred broke out the ‘charm-your-pants-off’ smile and made it impossible for Arthur to say no to anything he wanted. Arthur unconsciously nodded his consent and felt himself being pulled to the center of the floor as the song changed. The intro of the song and Sean Paul’s voice gave it away as the English version of Bailando by Enrique Iglesias. Arthur began to move to the music, letting his feet pick up the beat and his hips swing. But, like the traitor it was proving to be, ‘competitive dancer brain’ turned on and Arthur’s movements began to transform into the jerky moves of someone trying to choreograph when they have no real control over the music.

You look at me and girl you take me to another place

Got me feeling like I’m flying like I’m out of space

Something bout your body says “come and take me”

Got me begging, got me hoping that the night don’t stop

Lost in his attempts at choreography, Arthur failed to realize that a pair of muscular arms wrapped around his waist. “You’re thinking too much again.” Alfred’s breath brushed against his earlobe and sent a shiver down his spine. He felt himself being pulled backward flesh against Alfred’s body. “Don’t think, just feel the music and follow my lead. If it helps, try closing your eyes. Imagine it’s just you and me.” Following Alfred’s advice, Arthur let his eyelids fall and surrendered control to the other man. His hips and torso swung and twisted in time with Alfred’s as he moved closer, leaving absolutely no distance between the two dancers.

Girl I like the way you move

Come and show me what to do

You can tell me that you want me

Girl you got nothing to lose

I can’t wait no more

I can’t wait no more

The world fell away as the song continued. Nothing remained but the two of them, grinding and rolling hips, and the music surrounding them. Arthur wound his arm around Alfred’s neck behind him as he leaned his head back on Alfred’s shoulder.

I wanna be contigo

And live contigo, and dance contigo

Para have contigo

Una noche loca

Ay besar tu boca

I wanna be contigo

And live contigo, and dance contigo

Para have contigo

Una noche loca

Con tremnda loca

The spearmint scented breath slipping past his eardrum in the form of song lyrics coming from Alfred’s lips was doing things to Arthur’s body that would never be able to be translated into words in any language. “You have a very nice voice.” Arthur turned his head so that his cheek rested on Alfred’s collar bone. “It’s very soothing, like I could listen to it all day.”

“Glad you like it Arthur. If you’re nice to me, I might sing for you again.” A teasing smile could be heard in Alfred’s voice as he tightened his hold on Arthur’s waist.

“Don’t get cocky, you git.” Arthur tried to sound like his usual, perpetually annoyed self, but it was impossible with how much fun he was having just dancing for the hell of it.

_When was the last time I had this much fun just dancing?_ Arthur opened his eyes at that thought and accidentally bumped into someone. He was about to apologize but upon seeing whom he had knocked into, the only words that left his lips were “Holy. Fucking. Shit!” Standing in before him was another Alfred. This one, instead of black skinny jeans, wore red jeans of a similar style. He also wore the same style of shirt with the exception of the design. Instead of ‘Hero Time’ across the torso, this Alfred sported a bright red maple leaf in the center of his shirt. “Why the bloody fucking hell are there two Alfreds?!” He confusedly looked back and forth between the two quickly enough to give himself whip lash.

Arthur heard his Alfred mumble in a perplexed manner “Two Alfreds?” before he looked up and met the lavender eyes that he had grown up with and yelled like a delighted child “Mattie!” releasing Arthur to hug what seemed to be his clone.

“Mattie? Alfred can you explain what the fuck is happening?” Arthur massaged his temples, trying to get his head around the situation presented to him.

“Oh Arthur, this is my twin brother Matthew Williams. Mattie this is Arthur.” The twins shared one of those looks that said ten thousand words that can only be understood by people with close sibling relationships.

“You never said you had a twin! Could have saved me a fucking heart attack.”

“I’d recognize that foul mouthed British accent anywhere.” A heavily French accented voice that made Arthur cringe sounded over the confusion. An arm snaked around Matthew’s hips and the face of a man that Arthur would rather sell his soul than see again appeared over Matthew’s shoulder. “Bonsoir Alouette.”

“I told you to stop calling me a fucking Lark! What the bloody fuck are you doing here anyway, you cheese eating surrender monkey?!” Arthur yelled, resisting the urge to rush over to Francis and beat him until he was beyond recognition.

“Your mouth is still as foul as ever, mon ami.” Francis refused to be wound up by Arthur’s insults. They were part of a tradition between the two, but lately they had been getting a fair bit more creative.

“Are you going to answer my question you cum guzzling twat waffle?!” Arthur was growing more irritated by the second. But what Francis let slip past his lips next was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“That’s a new one cher. You weren’t complaining when it was your cum I was guzzling.”  Everything after that happened faster than anyone could actually remember. Arthur was being held back, barely, by Alfred and Francis was being scolded in two languages by Matthew. The area around them had been partially cleared due to Vash firing a shot into the crowd from the DJ booth and Feliks was clicking over, revealing his pink tutu and fishnet clad legs and his favorite five inch spikes, while his shaking brunet boyfriend took over for him behind the bar.

“Boys boys boys. This is, like, not how we handle things here. Vash, sweetie, can you give us a little something to, like, set the mood?” Feliks yelled over the commotion caused by the group of men, placing his hands on his hips.

A sharp voice, obviously Vash, replied “Didn’t I tell you not to call me sweetie?” the rest of what he said was drowned out by his musical selection.

If you wanna get with me

There’s some things you gotta know

I like my beats fast

And my bass down low

“What the hell is this about?” Arthur finally stopped trying to get to Francis so he could rip his throat out, to turn a furiously confused face at the stupidly grinning Feliks. Feliks popped his hip out and glanced back and forth between the ocean blue eyed blond and the forest green eyed blond.

“If you boys want to fight, you have to dance it out. We decide who won by who can out do the other. Sound good? Excellent.” Both men stared at the femininely dressed man making decisions for them, suppressing the urge to for a truce (temporarily) and attack him.

“Frenchie, since you weren’t trying to throw any punches, you can go first. Dazzle us.” Feliks stepped back to clear the floor for the two dancers.

“ Frenchie?...If I must.” Francis mumbled with a long suffering sigh.

It’s like one, two, three, fuck it

I’m bout to take this drink and just stuff it

Fish tank this thing along with four more shots

Of Patron I give a fuck about goin home

Straight buzzin Robotussin

Wanna get a lick of this lovin

G-g-g-get a lick of this lovin

The way Francis moved made him look weightless and heavy, loose and stiff, disorganized and controlled. Sharp arm movements flowed over smooth footwork, making Francis look like two different dancers. Just watching him made Arthur want to beat him to a quivering pulp with a stale baguette. He also to bury himself in a fifty foot ditch and never come out, because watching Francis dance was bringing back memories of the two of them that he thought he had buried under mountains of choreography.

“Alrighty Arthur, you’re up.” Completely lost in memories of dance partners past, Arthur failed to notice that Francis was graciously offering him the floor, until Feliks practically screamed it in his ear.

It’s like one, two, thee, okay

Can I get a little Goose in my O.J.?

E’rey day feel like my birthday

And we drink champagne when we thirsty

Quit fightin’ while your husband

Tryin to get his mitts in my oven

Wanna get a lick of this lovin?

G-g-g-get a lick of this lovin

Arthur began moving, trying to get his flow back as the music continued, His reminiscing’s about Francis kept him off his game and he could feel it in the awkward way his foot moved and the cramp growing in his side. Arthur was on the verge of quitting, grabbing Alfred, and dragging him out of the club. Arthur turned to meet Alfred’s eye. ‘ _You think too much. Loosen up, feel the music and follow my lead_.’ Alfred’s words drifted through his head making him smile. Taking that advice once more, Arthur cleared his mind, letting the music take control. His movements became as natural as breathing and Arthur began feeling the same rush that he got when he first started dancing. He felt the heat, the love, and the passion that he had lost for dance. Euphoria.

_It’s been far too long since I felt this way._

Still lost in the music, Arthur continued dancing, unconsciously drawing Francis in. Francis could see the sparks of the Arthur he once knew and joining him in that space was something he just couldn’t miss. The two fell into the rhythm that made them a dynamic duo in the dancing world. An old connection that was once dissipated between the two bubbled back up to the surface. The chemistry in the air was so potent that everyone in the room could taste it. This needed to stop. Two identical flashes of blond rushed in to separate the two dancers before the situation between them could get any more intimate. Alfred hauled Arthur back toward the bar and Matthew dragged Francis out the door by his ear, much to the amusement of Ivan.

* * *

 

The ride to Francis’s place was tense and silent. That silence carried over into the walk up to his unit, making it awkwardly longer than it actually was. Upon entrance into the apartment, the first two words to leave Matthew’s beautiful pouty lips were “Bedroom. Now.”

If Matthew weren’t so tired of waiting, the expression that crossed Francis’s face when he said “Yes sir” would have been priceless. Francis lead the way into an interior room of his apartment, completely unaware of anything his darling Matthew had planned. A sensation that he had grown quite accustomed to. Francis opened the door to his bedroom revealing a king sized bed draped with a large blanket and an ocean of pillows leaning against the head board, all modeled after the French flag. Tasteful white wood bedside tables, dressers, and bookshelves lined the walls along with a vanity and…

“A stripper pole?” Matthew cocked an eyebrow at Francis and forced back a smile at the idea that popped into his head.

“It’s an excellent core workout.” Francis explained, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

“I agree, but I have a different use for it tonight.” The predatory gleam in Matthew’s eyes was the same as it was in the store room the week before. “Sit.” The command in his voice had Francis sitting on his bed like a well-trained dog, and the image of him with perked up dog ears was enough to make Matthew’s smile widen. In his brief scan of the room Matthew located a small speaker that would serve his purposes for the evening quite well. With a wink, he walked over to the speaker, with a little swing in his hips, to hook up his iPod and set his plan into motion. As the music began, Matthew kicked off his shoes and slowly started loosening his belt while sensually swinging his hips.

I’m tellin you to loosen up my buttons baby

But you keep frontin

Sayin what you gon do to me

But I ain’t seen nothin

Matthew tossed his belt onto the bed, set aside for possible later use…if they had the time and energy.

Without his belt, Matthew’s jeans fell a little lower off of his hips as they swung back and forth. Francis’s eyes followed their path like they were a hypnotist’s watch, until a shirt fell on to his face covering his eyes and blocking the show Matthew was putting on for him. He tore it away from his eyes so quickly it almost gave him a welt on his cheek. Once his line of sight was cleared he had to blink a few times because another face with lavender eyes was nose to nose with his. Fingers swiftly unbuttoned and removed his shirt as a tongue snaked out to brush across his lower lip before retreating as his dearest Matthew walked backward to lean against the cool silver pole.

Typical

Hardly the type I fall for

I like when the physical

Don’t leave me askin for more

I’m a sexy mama

Who knows how to get what I wanna

What I want to do is spring this on you

Back up all the things that I told you

Matthew reached up, clasping both hands, one right over the other, on the pole pulling himself off of the ground. He flipped himself upside down so that his bare chest was against the cold metal. He swung his legs to the opposite side of the pole before sliding down to the floor. Francis looked like he was going to bite his lip off with how hard he was gnawing on it. The bulge in his pants looked like it was going to destroy his zipper. Everything about this was going better than Matthew could have ever dreamed.

Baby can’t you see?

How these clothes are fittin on me

And the heat comin from this beat

I’m about to blow

I don’t think you know

Matthew unbuttoned his pants and let them slide down his sinfully swinging hips until they hit the floor and he stepped out of them. In the process Matthew may have saved Francis’ bottom lip, because his jaw dropped at the sight of Matthew’s choice of undergarment for the evening.

“Are you supposed to do that to a nation’s flag?” Francis panted, eyes travelling to the red and white thong wrapped around Matthew’s waist with a red maple leaf covering his crotch.

Matthew smirked at the comment. “Not sure. But I’m almost certain we shouldn’t do what I’m planning on yours.” Matthew straddled Francis’ waist, pushing his shoulders down. Francis pulled Matthew down, meeting him halfway with a steaming kiss that Matthew did not hesitate to return. Lips and tongues intermingled as Matthew’s fingers went to work relieving some of the pressure on Francis’s cock by unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. A sigh of relief passed Francis’s lips followed by an impassioned groan as a hand wrapped around his unclothed member.

“This seems kind of familiar. Right down to one of us being sans underwear.” Matthew chuckled then gasped at the sound of shredding fabric.

“True. But I intend to finish what we started last week.” Francis flipped them over so that was resting between his beautifully naked Matthew’s legs. He trailed kisses down Matthew’s neck and collar bone, tasting the salty sweat from Matthew’s little performance. Remembering Matthew’s sensitive places Francis zeroed in on Matthew’s nipple bringing his lips down to place a kiss and trail his tongue over one.

“Ah.” Matthew gasped as Francis picked back up where they began the week before. Same spot, same delicious pressure. The only thing missing was Francis’ hand massaging his manhood. But as much as Matthew desired for that hand to stroke him into sweet oblivion, he knew Francis was occupying that hand with gathering things that would make this night perfect, judging by the shuffling he heard in in the bedside table drawer.

“Francis..” The sound of his own name moaned in Matthew’s voice made him want to move this process along a lot faster, but doing things too quickly with Matthew usually ended with Matthew pumping the brakes or an interruption. Francis, finally retrieving what he’d been after, a bottle of lube and a condom, pulled his hand out of the drawer, ready to devote the entirety of his attention to Matthew.  He placed the items on the side of his body where he could easily reach them when the time came. His now free handmade its way down Matthew’s side to his hip as he licked a path down to Matthew’s neglected manhood and enveloped him in the warmth of his mouth. Matthew hissed as Francis ran his tongue up and down the underside of his cock. He heard the sound of a cap coming off of a bottle, but he couldn’t bring himself to care because his head was in a lovely daze that he never wanted lifted. The moist finger making its way into his entrance caught his attention.

“You’re already pretty loose down here, darling” Francis breathed against the tips of Matthew’s dick as a second finger joined the first. “I’m already two fingers in.” He scissored, twisted, and crooked his fingers searching for Matthew’s magic spot.

“I may h-ah-have pregamed a little before we –Aaaaaaah-JESUS!” Everything in Matthew’s line of vision vanished behind a wall of white before dispersing into fireworks behind his eyelids.

As Matthew gasped, trying to gain some semblance of control, Francis pressed his fingers against that spot again. “Found it.” Francis chuckled as he watched Matthew’s back arch when he moaned.

“Francis…. Hurry up and fuck me!” Matthew’s yell of frustration transformed into a groan of pleasure as he rocked himself on Francis’ fingers.

“As you wish, dearest” Francis removed his fingers and lined himself up with Matthew’s entrance. He pushed himself into Matthew’s heat and had to use every fiber of his being not to drive full throttle into his new lover. He may have been trying to get here for damn near a month but he had always been a considerate lover and he was not willing to compromise that.

“Move.” Matthew was breathing rapidly and he felt uncomfortably stretched but he was sick of waiting. He waited months to get into Francis’ studio and somewhere along the way it became a count down until they became one. All of that waiting time no longer mattered to him as he felt Francis thrust in and out of him. The sound of labored breathing with the occasional moan from Matthew filled the room until Francis his Matthew’s magic button.

“FRANCIS!” Matthew screamed in ecstasy and started meeting Francis thrust for thrust. “MORE!”

“Oui, mon amour” Francis angled his hips so that he couldn’t miss that spot. Every moan from Matthew push Francis closer and closer to the edge. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back, his rhythm was already slipping, but he was determined to make Matthew finish first. He could feel Matthew tightening around him and the last thing his darling needed was one final push. Francis wrapped his fingers around Matthew’s straining member and started to jerk him off.

“Fuck… FRANCIS!” Matthew’s voice ringing out in climax was the final push Francis needed. He pushed himself deeper into Matthew and let everything that he had been holding back, release into his lover with a groan from the bottom of his soul. Both blonds exhaustedly attempted to catch their breath as Francis pulled out of Matthew and collapsed beside him. Ignoring the dull ache in his hips, Matthew turned and curled himself against Francis, tucking his head under Francis’s chin, while Francis wrapped his arms around Matthew with a content sigh.

“Francis?”

“Oui?”

“Je t’aime.”

Francis kissed Matthew’s forehead and responded “Je t’aime aussi.”   

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Readers!! So this week we have three songs. Bailando (English version) by Enrique Iglesias feat. Sean Paul, Bass Down Low by Dev feat The Cataracs, and Buttons by The Pussycat Dolls. Okay, hopefully this chapter makes up for how I ended the last chapter... and the fact that this is the last we're getting of Franada for a while. The will be back. They kind of have to be. Also "cum guzzling twat waffle" may be the best line I have ever written. Please don't expect another line like that any time soon. So with this chapter I know there are a few things I'm going to have to explain. The explanations will come at a later time, don't worry. There's also a reason why I bring up certain characters and others are repeat characters. Except the TurGrePan sandwich. That was purely for indulgence purposes. Thank you to everyone leaving comments and Kudos and to all of you reading in the first place. Please feel free to continue to do so and voicing your opinions. To cosplayingconfused, hopefully you've forgiven me about teasing you last chapter. Okay, I think that takes care of all of my business here. Time to say good bye! Until next week mes amours. ~SgtCoolWhip


	8. The (Not so) Triumphant Return of Arthur Twerkland

Heavy breathing and the faint sound of voices roused Arthur from his unconscious state. _Agh what happened? Where am I?_

“Ah, Arthur, you feel so good!” A voice panted, sounding strained but containing so much pleasure.

“Alfred…ah…more! Harder!” Arthur heard his own voice, sounding more needy than he had ever heard it before. _What the hell is going on? It sounds like… but it can’t be. But I don’t remember what happened after I started drinking._ The darkness surrounding him made everything he heard more real. All of the echoes reverberated in his body, sending the blood in his body pooling into his nether regions. The volume of the voices increased as time went on. The sound of their rising pleasure beat against his ear drums until…

“Aaaaaaaaah!” He heard his own voice making the lustiest sound of climax in the history of sexual sounds, soon followed by the deep and heavy groan of Alfred tumbling after him before the world was flooded with blinding light.

The soft surface his face was planted in started smothering him as tried to breathe while simultaneously attempting not to scream. Snapping his head up so that was no longer trying to inhale his pillow, Arthur gasped and gulped down as much air as he could. He took note of his location, thankful that he appeared to be in his own bed and, by extension, his own home. The relief had barely set in before a splitting pain exploded in his temple causing him to face plant back into his pillow.

_Why? Why won’t the light shut up?_

In the brief moments that Arthur was able to keep his eyes open, he saw that while his bed was empty, except for himself, it looked slept in. With that in mind he took inventory of his clothing. _Pants are still on, No trousers…_ He ran his hand sown his chest. _Shirt open, missing buttons. Hips aren’t sore, splitting head ache._ His stomach growled, informing him that food needed to be introduced into his system or his stomach was going to start eating itself. That was when he smelled something so delicious that, if he weren’t faced down in a pillow, would have made him drool a river.

_Aspirin then food. Aspirin then food._

Dreading the walk to his bathroom, Arthur sat up squinting at the sunlight streaming in through the window. To his surprise, two pills and a glass of water sat on the table beside his bed waiting for him.

_Who?_

Picking up the pills and glass, he swallowed the aspirin down with a silent thank you to the saint that left them there. Arthur dug around in his dresser in search of comfortable clothes as a speaking baritone voice drifted under the closed door.

_Looks like I get to see my saint after all._

Opening the door and taking a step into the blessedly dark hallway, the voice became clearer… and so did the music.

We are the muses

Goddesses of the arts and proclaimers of heroes

_Is that…It is a Disney song. Which can only mean that my saint is…_

Arthur stepped  into the doorway of his kitchen and was met with the delectable smell that had drawn him out of bed and a sight that had him debating locating a camera for blackmail purposes or quietly walking away to crawl back into bed and try that whole waking up thing again.

Back when the world was new

And planet Earth was down on its luck

And everywhere gigantic brutes called titans

Ran amok

Standing in from of the stove Alfred stood in a pose reminiscent of Elvis Presley, singing into a spatula. On two burners sat skillets of eggs and potatoes and… did he smell blueberry muffins?

It was a nasty place

There was a mess where ever you stepped

Where chaos reigned and

Earthquakes and volcanoes never slept

With each changing singer Alfred changed his tone and pitch, his voice quiet as though he did not want to disturb someone resting in the other room. _Little late for that._  Even though the song was meant for female voice, Alfred could carry it off better than anyone Arthur had ever heard. He stirred the eggs, adding a bit of spice as he continued singing.

And then along came Zeus

He hurled his thunderbolt

He zapped

Locked those suckers in a vault

They’re trapped

And on his own stopped chaos in its tracks

And that’s the gospel truth

The guy was too type A to just relax

A timer sounded in the background while Alfred danced and sang his heart out. He bent over, still swinging his hips, to open the oven and pull out a tray of freshly made muffins, forcing Arthur to hold in painful laughter while trying to make his escape.

“Arthur? That you?” The music stopped and Alfred poked his head around the corner to look at the retreating brit. “How ya feelin’? You partied pretty hard last night.” Alfred’s normally pleasant sounding voice sounded like nails scratching against a chalk board over a high school sound PA system to the poor hung over man.

“Ah not so loud Alfred. Feels like someone is practicing drums on my skull.” Arthur sat down in his usual place and laid his head on the table. A soft clinking sound and warmth radiating against his cheek made him look up.

“Heads up dude. Hot plates. I also made some tea. I wasn’t sure how you liked it though so there’s sugar, lemon, and honey on the table.” Alfred had lowered his voice as to not cause his poor partner any more pain.

Taking a fork full of food, Arthur started eating as Alfred sat down watching him as if awaiting critique.

“I didn’t know you could cook. It’s all very delicious,” Arthur took a bite of the muffin and had to stop himself from purring, lest Alfred call him a kitten again “but you didn’t need to make muffins. I had fresh scones sitting on the stove.”

“Those were scones?” Alfred’s bespectacled face was both confused and horrified as he remembered the pastry he had the displeasure of biting into earlier that morning. The thing was both burnt and raw at the same time and Alfred needed to know exactly how Arthur had managed to make that happen.

“Yes, they were scones. Do you have a pro-?” Arthur was cut off by Alfred suddenly taking hold of his hand and giving him a pleadingly desperate look.

“Arthur, promise me you’ll never cook for yourself again. I will come here every day to cook for you if I have to, just never ever touch a stove again unless it’s to make yourself tea.”

“If I agree, will you let go of my hand and stop yelling? It’s too damn early and my head aches too damn much to argue with you right now.”

“Thank you.” Alfred finally relaxed and took a bite of his own food. “So now that you’re awake, I have a few questions about some of the things that happened last night.”

“Before I answer that I need to know what happened last night. Everything after that frog and your brother left is a blur.” Arthur scratched the back of his head as if his scalp held the answers to the mystery of the rest of his night and was being a wanker about sharing the information. When he pulled his hand free of his slightly tangled ash blond locks, his fingers were shimmering like that vampire, what’s-his-face, from Twilight. “Why the devil am I covered in glitter?! Alfred, what the hell did I do last night?”

“Promise to answer my questions and I’ll tell you everything.” A sly smile crossed the American’s face at the look of panicked distress on Arthur’s.

“Fine, just fucking tell me before I introduce your testicles to my fork.”

“Not a morning person are we Arthur? All right, first things first. Who was that guy with my brother, the one you called, and correct me if I get the phrase wrong, a ‘cum guzzling twat waffle’? Follow up, what exactly did he mean when he said that you didn’t complain when it was your cum he was guzzling?”

“To answer your first question, that was Francis Bonnefoy. I’m sure you’ve heard of him. As for your second question, in accordance with your American Constitution, I plead the Fifth.” Arthur sniffed his tea and added some lemon before taking a sip and sighing in satisfaction.

“Hate to break this to you dude, but you’re British and thereby unable to invoke Fifth Amendment rights. Answer the question!” Alfred adjusted his glasses and continued staring at the forest eyed man like he was a suspect avoiding questioning in interrogation.

“I answered your questions; now tell me what happened last night.”

“This isn’t over. I have more questions, but I guess I can fill in some gaps before you answer them.” Alfred sighed closing his baby blue eyes. “So you remember everything up to me dragging you back to the bar right? Well Feliks followed us back and started serving you drinks…”

* * *

Alfred was glad that Arthur listened to him and loosened up, but loosening up and getting closer to another man was not part of the equation. Especially since those two seemed to have a history, if those insults were any indication. Alfred wasn’t sure what the hell a ‘cum guzzling twat waffle’ was but he needed to know if it involved Arthur and some dude sucking him off. Arthur’s bright laughter as he struggled slightly to get out of Alfred’s grasp over his shoulder would have made Alfred happy if he knew the actual cause. He needed answers. He placed Arthur, as gently as possible, on the floor in front of the bar.

“What was that for Al? I was having fun!” Arthur was breathless and beaming as Alfred with a smile so warm that it would melt the frozen tundra.

Even though his heart was racing at the sight of the beautifully joy filled expression and the fact that Arthur had called him ‘Al’, which never happened, Alfred could not stop himself from thinking _A little too much fun._

“Hey Arthur-“Alfred started to voice his concerns when a Polish accented voice cut him off.

“That was, like, totally insane! Al said you could dance but I didn’t think it would be anything like that!” Feliks flounced over to them behind the bar, tutu bouncing and heels clicking the whole way.

“Thank you Feliks. And I don’t think Alfred told you about my being able to dance like that because he didn’t know.” Alfred felt the icy glare he shot at Feliks for interrupting melt away at the warm tone of Arthur’s voice at the good time he was having.

“I, like, think it’s time for some shots! And they’re, like, totally on the house for you guys.” Feliks already had glasses lined up and started pouring from an unlabeled bottle that Alfred immediately recognized. It was something of a house mystery as to what it actually was but Feliks only brought it out when Alfred was there. No one really knew what it was; all they knew is that it was strong. The only people that could handle more of it than Alfred were Ivan and some guy that wouldn’t give his name but had an easily recognizable laugh that was impossible to imitate.

“Fe, are you sure about this? Remember what happened last time Lars caught you serving shots on the house?” Alfred needed to keep Arthur from drinking what was in that glass, no matter how interesting the result would be. After Feliks had a couple shots of it Alfred had gotten several furious calls from both Toris and Matt about what they called ‘The maple syrup fiasco!’ He couldn’t let something like that happen with Arthur.

“Who’s Lars?” Arthur inquired, picking up the glass and smelling it.

Feliks knocked his own drink back before answering. “Lars is the Dutch Man himself, though we’re not sure about that flying part. He owns that club and shit. And Al, last time was, like, not that bad.” He started pouring himself another shot.

“Maybe not for you. You didn’t have to deal with Tor, Matt, and Lars along with a hangover. Arthur you really don’t want to drink that.” Alfred reached for the glass, hoping to prevent another incident and 45 minute lecture from Toris sided with a substantial bill for damage to both the bar and the club image from Lars. Just as he was about to wrap his fingers around the glass, it was snatched away as Arthur danced his way out of Alfred’s reach.

“Piss off!” Arthur downed his shot, much to the dismay of Alfred and the delight of Feliks, who was already refilling the empty glass. “I do whatever the fuck I want!”

“Yeah! You, like, tell him Arthur!” Feliks yelled  as the volume of the music started to increase.

Shots shots shots shots

Shots shots

Shots shots shots shots

Shots shots

Shots shots shots shots

Shots shots

Everybody!

If Alfred wasn’t already certain that saying so would result in a cap in his ass, he would have demanded that Vash change the song immediately. Whenever this song came on, that inimitable, easily recognizable laugh would soon follow and all hell would break loose.

Arthur was already three shots in and didn’t give any indication of stopping as his inhibitions slipped further and further away. He swayed in place, laughing along with whatever the hell Feliks was saying. Alfred knew that he couldn’t understand a word being said, no one could the first time they had a couple of hits from the mystery bottle.

* * *

“Wait wait wait. You let me drink something that you’re not even sure of the contents of?!” Arthur exclaimed in alarm. The meds and tea were finally kicking in so the pounding in his head receded.

“Dude, no one but Lars and possibly Ivan knows what that stuff is. Lars just showed up with it one day and told us ‘Drink up’. Ivan looked thrilled after he took a hit so we thought ‘Can’t be terrible’. After Lars bailed us out of jail the next day for being naked and handcuffed to a forklift in the middle of Ikea, which we still aren’t sure how we go into, me and Fe wanted to know what that shit was and Lars told us ‘Do not stick your nose where it does not belong’, I took that as ‘this stuff is not legal here and if you rat me out, your kidneys will be on sale on the black market’. Needless to say we don’t ask questions anymore.”

“That reason for arrest sounds very familiar. How’d they even get that shit here?”

“Apparently Lars knows a guy in Amsterdam who knows a guy in Moscow. They don’t ask questions and neither does he.” Alfred pushed his glasses up on his nose to get a better look at Arthur’s confused face.

“This sounds incredibly shady, but I’ll drop it for now. Please continue with the story.” Arthur poured himself another cup of tea in an attempt to forget about his mystery drinks.

“Rightio. Now as I was saying, you were on your fourth shot and already hazy. I’m surprised you held out that long in the first place. You’ve got to tell me how you built up your tolerance. Most people are passed out by the second shot. If they make it longer they usually end up in a situation they can’t explain.”

Resisting the urge to throw a lemon at Alfred’s honey blond head, Arthur yelled “Finish the story you bloody American arsehat!”

“Right, so as I was saying…”

* * *

“Kesesesesesesesese!”

_Oh no. Not now. Not with Arthur like this._

“Sup brohaus! The awesome me has come to grace you with mein awesome presence!” A scarlet eyed, white haired man with an obvious German accent, slid up next to Alfred. Without a word of request three shots of the mystery drink were placed in front of him.

“I see you managed to escape your baby sitter.” Alfred quipped, hoping the man would walk the fuck away so that he could focus on keeping the damage for the night to a minimum.

“He’s just in the bathroom freshening up. He says he doesn’t enjoy my sweat all over him, especially after going at it in such a filthy place, which is absurd because my sweat makes it even more awesome.” He knocked back two out of his three shots in under five seconds. “You know how Rodders is.”

“You should probably go find him. I have my own person to baby sit. And I think I see yours headed this way with… is that a leash? No! I don’t need to know any more about your kinks than I already do.” As Alfred turned away from the cackling man to keep an eye on Arthur, all he saw was a line of nine glasses and a green eyed blond, but not his green eyed blond.

“Looks like you’re failing at your job. He’s headed for the dance floor.” A commotion involving three voices sounded from the indicated location and his friend narrowed his ruby eyes. “This should be good.”

Alfred took off after his ,clearly drunk off his ass, partner hoping that he wasn’t the cause of whatever was about to happen. That’s when everything being said became clear.

“Step off feta breath! It’s my turn to dance with Kiku. Why don’t you go bore someone to sleep with your stupid cat talk?”

“Why don’t you leave Kiku alone? He dances with me more because he likes me more than you. He only danced with you out of pity!”

“Heracles-san! Sadiq-san! There is no need to fight over me!”

As Alfred made his way through the crowd, the scene unfolding before him showed signs of chaos but thankfully not caused by Arthur. The tanned, masked man held one arm of the tiny Asian man against his chest and glared over his head at the man with the cat tattooed over his heart that held the Asian man’s other arm hostage. Arthur was thank fully nowhere in sight.

_Where the hell did he go?_

My Anaconda don’t

My Anaconda don’t

My Anaconda don’t want none unless you got

Buns hun

The two glaring men nodded at each other and released the poor middle man’s arms while taking a few steps back.

“Twerk off!” They yelled simultaneously as they dropped into twerk position, asses toward the object of their desires.

Now that’s real real real

Gun in my purse, bitch I came dressed to kill

Who wanna go first? I had them pushing daffodils

I’m high as hell, I only took half a pill

I’m on some dumb shit

The way those two were moving their asses promised back pain well into their golden years, but it was impressive that they could keep it up as long as they did.

“Amateurs!” A slurred, but still very much British accented voice carried over the music. “Let me show you how it’s done!” Everyone turned their attention toward the bar where, much to Alfred’s chagrin, Arthur was climbing up on to the surface, somehow only stumbling once. _When the fuck did he get over there?!_ Alfred shoved his way through the crowd praying that he got there before Arthur pulled a Miley Cyrus.

What Alfred saw once he finally reached the front had him questioning whether or not he wanted to stop him.

e keep telling me to chill

He keep telling me it’s real, that he love my sex appeal

Because he don’t like ‘em boney, he want

Something he can grab

So I pull up in the Jag, and I hit him with the jab like…

Dun-d-d-dun-dun-d-d-dun-dun

If asked fifty years from now, how he would describe Arthur twerking, Alfred would only be able to call it hypnotic. The way Arthur threw his ass in a circle and popped it up and down left Alfred breathless and had his blood shifting southward. All of that was only intensified by a cheering Feliks throwing handful after handful of glitter over Arthur’s head.

“Alfred, comrade, I am glad your friend is having good time,” Ivan appeared over Alfred’s shoulder, nearly causing his heart to give out “but if he does not get off the bar I will have to introduce him to the magic metal pipe of pain… if Vash does not shoot him down first.”

“Got it.” Alfred signaled for Vash to lower the sniper rifle that he knew was trained on Arthur before walking up to the bar and yelling “Get the fuck down dude!”

“THEY DON’T CALL ME ARTHUR ‘TWERKLAND’ FOR NOTHIN’! WOOOOOOO!” Arthur shouted as he fell backward into Alfred’s arms. He planted several kisses and bites on Alfred’s exposed neck before whispering “Take me home you sexy American beast. I want you.”

“You’re drunk.” Alfred carried Arthur out to his car and leaned him against the rear passenger side door as he attempted to unlock the front door. A task that was becoming much more difficult because his drunk companion was trying to get his hand down the front of Alfred’s pants.

“And you’re bloody sexy.” Arthur sat down in the passenger seat and trapped Alfred between his legs. “I want you to take me, right here. Fuck me like a bitch. Make me scream your name. I don’t wanna be able to move tomorrow. Arthur tried unbuttoning Alfred’s jeans, but failed miserably thanks to his uncoordinated fingers. Alfred quickly made his escape to the driver’s seat for what was sure to be an eventful ride home if Arthur’s wandering hands were any type of hint.

* * *

Alfred somehow managed to get them safely back to Arthur’s house, even though Arthur did damn near everything in his power, short of grabbing the wheel and driving them to the side of the road, to get Alfred to pull over and fuck him senseless. Once Arthur had successfully got the door unlocked, he grabbed Alfred by the front of his shirt and pulled him in for a wet, sloppy kiss. He kicked the door closed and pulled Alfred along as he walked backward into his bedroom.

“Arthur we shouldn’t do this.” Alfred tried to reason but it was too late, Arthur had already dropped his pants and viciously ripped open his shirt.

“Don’t say we shouldn’t, love. I know you really want to.” Arthur finally succeeded in undoing Alfred’s pants and, pulling down his boxers, pushed him back on to the bed.

“Arthur. Stop.” His efforts fell on deaf ears as Arthur’s mouth descended on his cock.

_Let this happen Alfred. He’s offering, you may as well accept._

Arthur ran his tongue up the vein on the underside of Alfred’s dick, causing him to let out a strangled moan as that devious tongue made a circuit around his tip.

“Arthur please- aah- stop.” Alfred groaned as Arthur took him down to the hilt. Every fiber of his being was telling him to thrust into Arthur’s mouth until he fell over the edge into bliss. Every swipe of Arthur’s tongue and bob of his head inched him closer and closer to that edge until finally…

“Aaaaaah!” Alfred felt Arthur swallowing everything he had to offer and no matter how much he tried to push him away, Arthur was determined to stay put until Alfred was done. As Alfred lay trying to catch his breath, Arthur kissed and licked a trail up the abs that had been tempting him since the day he met the gorgeously, infuriatingly, beautifully blue eyed American. He finally reached Alfred’s lips, stealing away what little breath he had managed to regain, with a hard kiss. And as much as Alfred wanted to continue down the path that the forest eyed ash blond was laying out for him, he would hate himself for in the morning for taking advantage of a person while they were unable to make responsible, informed decisions. Steeling his resolve, he pushed Arthur away and refused to meet his drunkenly confused and offended eyes.

“Arthur, please don’t go any further. You’re not thinking clearly right now. You wouldn’t act like this normally, so please stop.” Alfred tried to say it as gently but clearly as humanly possible, but the way Arthur’s expression twisted from confused offence to pure fury informed that he had failed.

“You stupid fucking American bag of dripping cunts! I just sucked you off and you leave me high and dry?” Arthur’s voice shook a little as he berated Alfred for rejecting him and Al could tell that he had wounded him deeply. “Fuck you Alfred F. Jones! Get the fuck out of my bed! I HATE YOU!”

“Arthur, I’m sorry.” Alfred reached over to touch Arthur’s shoulder, but Arthur had reached over to his bedside table and threw something at Alfred that he just barely dodged so that it shattered against the wall.

“GET OUT!” Arthur screamed as he flopped down on his pillows.

Rising from the bed Alfred walked over to the door with a quiet “Good night Arthur.” When Arthur did not respond Alfred closed the door with a deep sigh.

* * *

“I came back in a little while later to make sure you were still okay. You were passed out so I left you some aspirin and cleaned up the glass before tucking you in. I stayed over so I could keep an eye on you. With as much of that stuff as you drank, I’m surprised you’re even up right now.” Alfred finished the story while washing the dishes, listening to Arthur thump his head repeatedly against the table’s surface.

“I’m so sorry you witnessed that. But I think I have some good news for you bad news for me information about the identity of you mystery friend. Thought I really wish I didn’t.”

“Oh? Then you’ve just added another question to my list. Answer that one first then I’ll ask the rest.” Alfred sat back down and stared at the brit with interest.

“You’re somewhat aware of famous dancers, yes? Well that was Gilbert Beilschimdt, who happens to be a master of skill and a judge of the competition we’re in. That baby sitter you mentioned, ‘Rodders’? That happens to be Roderich Edelstein, a technique master and Gilbert’s longtime boyfriend, although I think they got married recently and I just forgot to attend, anyway he is also a judge in our competition. They are both old acquaintances.”

“Really? Awesome! Now for a more pressing question. Did they really call you ‘Arthur Twerkland’?” The smirk on Alfred’s face turned into a shit eating grin as Arthur turned a shade of red that cardinals would envy.

“It was one time! In college! And it was a lesson in the evils of Jungle Juice and drinking with Gilbert!” Arthur’s distressed voice just made the entire situation funnier.

“That’s a story I’ve got to hear. Do you have a history of dancing on bars, or was that just a one-time thing? Dude we’ve got to party together more often! We’ll invite everyone and you can show us why they call you Arthur Twerkland again…”

“Alfreeeeeeeeed.” Was all he heard before the tea pot went airborne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! So this week we once again have three songs. The Gospel Truth by Alan Meken (because we all know Al's favorite Disney movie is Hercules), Shots by Lil John, and Anaconda by Nicki Minaj. Funny story about this chapter, shortly after I finished writing it, I was making myself breakfast listening to a Disney playlist (yes I have one, anyone have a problem with that?) and The Gospel truth came on. Naturally I had to re-enact Alfred dancing in the kitchen. And then my roommate's boyfriend walked in. So I'm never living that down. Moving on, some of you may wonder why I chose to name this chapter what I did, some of you may already have an idea why, some of you may not care because you're focused on trying to figure out what's next. All of this is acceptable and makes me smile. Those of you with theories remember, I put people certain places at certain times for a reason. Next on my list of things to ramble about while I've got you all hostage, Isn't Alfred great? The best kind of person. Because taking advantage of people incapable of making informed decisions is never cool. With that out of the way, thanks so much for the comments and kudos (and the forgiveness) they are so very much appreciated. Please feel free to leave more, and don't be afraid to ask questions, I will actually answer them. Okay so now that i have sufficiently bored you to death, I gonna leave. See you next week! ~SgtCoolWhip


	9. Who are You Trying to Fool?

Arthur was freaking the fuck out. Not in an overly obvious fashion, but still freaking the fuck out. He refused to show it on his face, how his body reacted on the other hand, gave away the fact that Alfred made him nervous. How could he not? Every time Alfred held him close during rehearsals, all he would remember was his dream from the night at the club. Every touch, every brush of skin, every bump and grind of their bodies sent the fantasies rushing back, causing him to flinch and shy away from his increasingly annoyed baby blue eyed partner. This behavior had been going on for three week now and showed absolutely no signs of stopping in the near future. Arthur knew his antics were harmful to their partnership, but he couldn’t help himself. The cause of his fantasies and frustrations had witnessed him making a complete and utter fool of himself while drunk and it was sure to change how the bespectacled honey blond saw him.

_Why couldn’t all of that have been a dream? I’m surprised Alfred even wants to work with me after that. It was so embarrassing and then I basically threw myself at him! He probably thinks I’m some kind of slut. Ugh, why didn’t I just die back then? It would have saved me from agonizing over this shi-_

“Okay that’s it! I can’t take this shit anymore!” A frustrated yell broke Arthur out of his self-loathing thoughts. He looked up into the burning blue eyes of his partner and blushed furiously when he saw how close they were. Arthur started to pull away from Alfred but his exit was blocked by a well-muscled pair of arms holding him in place.

“Unhand me Alfred!” Arthur fought and squirmed in Alfred’s grasp desperate to escape. Alfred tightened his grip, refusing to let the struggling man go. “Alfred! This isn’t funny! Let me go!”

“Not until you calm down and look at me!” Shocked by the tone of Alfred’s voice, Arthur finally stopped resisting and met the eyes of the man that had been invading his day and nightly dreams. If ever questioned, Arthur would deny that his heart skipped a beat when he saw those baby blue eyes soften with every fiber of his being for the rest of his life, but he would never be able to deny the blush creeping up on his cheeks as the American smiled down at him.

“Finally. You haven’t looked me in the eye since breakfast at your place a few weeks ago.” Alfred caught Arthur’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, seeing that the brit was about to turn away again. “Oh no you don’t. Arthur, why are you avoiding me? Don’t you dare say you’re not.  Every time our eyes meet you turn away and every time I touch you, you flinch away, which I gotta say, is  making dancing with you really fucking difficult. Tell me what’s up. I’m not letting you go until you do.”

“I’m not avoiding you and nothing is up. I just don’t think we need to be that close to each other. That’s all. Now let me go.” Arthur knew his voice gave away that he was lying, but he would never be able to tell Alfred that every time he put his hands on Arthur’s hips Arthur wanted to wrap his legs around his waist and kiss him until  they lost consciousness from oxygen deprivation. He had to keep those thoughts hidden until he died.

Alfred closed his eyes and sighed deeply, letting Arthur go. “I really hate being lied to Arthur.” He put his hands on his well sculpted hips and stared at the forest eyed ash blond. “You were a lot more honest before everything happened at the club. A lot more bold too. I miss that Arthur. I at least knew what was going on in his head.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not acting any differently that I usually do. You’re just imagining things.” The lies he kept spewing tasted disgusting on his tongue. He hated lying just as much as Alfred hated being lied to, but if this partnership was going to work with no one being harmed in the end, he needed to keep up the lies.

“Oh really? You’re not acting any differently?” Alfred raised a skeptical eyebrow and took a step closer to the defensive ash blond, who in response took a retreating step back. “Because the Arthur I know wouldn’t back away from me. He’d hold his ground, call me some weird British insult with an impressive amount of expletives and demand that we get back to fucking practicing. What happened to ‘Arthur Twerkland’? Where’s that boldness, because as far as I’m concerned you’ve lost all of your appeal.”

“First of all, you fucking blue eyed sack of shit, that was one time and I was in college! Second, I have not lost a damn thing except my patience with you wasting time we don’t have on irrelevant shit.” Arthur didn’t realize that he had gotten closer to Alfred, let alone that he had gotten in his face while he was yelling and preparing to launch into a lecture until he saw Alfred’s smile.

“You sound a little more like the Arthur I know. But you still haven’t convinced me that you haven’t lost all of your appeal.” Arthur could see the scheming gleam in Alfred’s eyes and knew that he was plotting something. He knew and he was still going to walk right into it, eyes wide open.

“Fine. How do I prove that I haven’t lost my shit so we can get back to what’s important?”

“So glad you asked, dear Arthur. Go stand center floor for me?” The gleam in his bespectacled blue eyes made Arthur immediately regret the decision to indulge the young man, but stopping now was not an option.

Keeping an eye on his ever scheming partner, Arthur stood center floor with his arms crossed across his chest. He watched Alfred scroll through his collection of music with barely concealed fear, praying he wouldn’t have to explain why he had certain songs in the first place. A smirk crept across Alfred’s lips and Arthur knew, without anything that could even attempt to be mistaken as a shadow of a doubt, that he was doomed. “Your tastes in music never fail to surprise me. But this particular song wasn’t even on my list of thing you might listen to.” Alfred chuckled as he pressed play and a medium tempo jazzy sounding song drifted from the speakers against the wall. Alfred moved to stand in front of the glaring, blushing Arthur and appeared to be suppressing laughter at the expression on Arthur’s face.

Boy I will be your sexy silk

Wrap me around ‘round ‘round ‘round

I’ll be your pussy cat licking your milk

Right now, down, down, down

“What the fuck is this all about?” Arthur’s confusion further fueled his irritation with his beautiful partner’s shenanigans.

“Sounding more and more like my foul mouthed Arthur by the second.” Alfred’s smirk had long since transformed into a grin that was eerily reminiscent of the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. “I want you to dance for me. Make me want you Arthur. Show me that you still have what it takes. Unless you think you can’t do it.” His voice dripped challenge and doubt. Arthur knew that he should walk away and say ‘fuck it’ but a challenge was something he would forever have trouble walking away from.

“Fine I’ll do it. But it’s not to prove anything to you. I just want to stop wasting so much valuable time.” Arthur closed his eyes, effectively ignoring the triumphant smirk plastered on Alfred’s lips and began letting everything but the music surrounding him fall away.

Whoa whoa whoa whoa

Whoa boy you’re gonna win

Say “yeah yeah yeah” you’re under my skin

I got butterflies within

Ohhh!

I think I like you!

Arthur swung his hips in time with the beat of the music, attempting to follow the advice given to him by the blue eyed object of his desires without triggering fantasies of what could have happened had Alfred continued what he had started that night. His hands trailed up his body, winding up above his head as he, against his will, imagined what it would feel like to have the honey blond watching him, pulling his fitted shirt off and trailing his lips and tongue up and down his torso. He opened his eyes, letting the fantasy continue, and took a few seductively slow steps toward Alfred, pushing his hips forward to give his body  a bit more swing.

Will you be my medicine man?

Put your hand on my chest

Feel the bump bump bump bump

Will you be my sugar rush?

Make me get high with just one long touch.

Arthur, still lost in his daydream, didn’t notice that, as he was walking backward after pushing off of Alfred’s shoulder with the ball of his right foot, Alfred had gotten up and placed a hand on his hip and pulled him close to his body. In the past few weeks Arthur had been trying so hard to avoid being in Alfred’s grasp, that he had forgotten how good it felt to be pressed up against him. The feeling of was addicting, Arthur could feel the stretching and contracting of those well-defined pectorals and abdominals against his own less defined chest through the teasing barrier of their shirts as he melted further into Alfred’s touch. As the pair continued to dance, closer and closer, Arthur could practically taste his desires in the air surrounding him. He could feel them beginning to overflow with the way Alfred’s body moved against his. The chain that linked the beast of his fantasies to the fortress wall of his rationality was at its limit as his fantasies fought to cross the line into reality. Arthur wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep himself in check and the gentle way Alfred’s finger tips slipped under the back of his shirt and traced up his spine was pushing him closer and closer to the edge. The heat radiating from the places Alfred touched was melting the weakest link of his restraint. The way Alfred’s cool peppermint scented breath brushed across the shell of his ear as he wrapped his leg around Alfred’s waist was the last push he needed to surrender to his urges.

_Agh! Fuck it!_

Arthur winded his arms around Alfred’s neck tangling his fingers in his soft honey blond hair, forcing him to meet Arthur’s burning forest green eyes. Before snapping forward and capturing the bespectacled male’s lips with his own. Arthur chose to ignore the exclamation of ‘ _finally!_ ’ in the back his mind in favor of enjoying the fireworks exploding behind his eyes as Alfred’s tongue trailed his lower lip, coaxing his own to come out to play. The invitation couldn’t have been more welcome as his own hooked around Alfred’s and pushing all of his weight against the honey blond. A quiet moan escaped Arthur’s lips at the way Alfred’s fingers traveled up and down the back of his thigh, squeezing certain places at odd intervals. Alfred started backing them up against the wall, refusing to separate from Arthur. Not that Arthur would let him. As soon as Alfred’s back made contact with the cool wall of mirrors, Arthur pushed off the floor to wrap his other leg around Alfred’s hip and lifted himself higher to dominate their tongue tango. Arthur quickly took control and deepened the kiss and was pleased that Alfred didn’t seem to mind. In fact all that Arthur felt from Alfred, besides complete obedience, was his hand sliding up from his thighs to his arse and squeezing gently.

As the pair continued their lip locking, Alfred began sliding down the wall until he was sitting with Arthur straddling him. He moved his lips down the side of his forest eyed partner’s jaw and down the pale column of his neck, earning a nearly silent gasp as he nipped gently at the skin. At this moment, Alfred couldn’t think of anything that would make right then any more perfect. That was until Arthur started grinding on him. The feeling of Arthur’s obvious hard on combined with the marvelous pressure he was pushing on to Alfred’s rapidly hardening member was enough to get an aroused groan out of him before his mind all but blanked out. He grabbed, none too gently, onto Arthur’s hips as he lifted himself slightly and leaned Arthur down until his back hit the floor. He continued rutting against his ash blond partner, reveling in the moans that slipped through his perfect pale pink lips. His left hand held Arthur’s hips in place while his right slowly pushed his tightly fitted shirt up to his chin, exposing his pale chest to the breeze suddenly filling the studio. Arthur refusing to just let Alfred be the only one doling out pleasure, slid his hand between their bodies and attempted to get down the front of the bespectacled male’s pants.

“Ahem.” The sound of someone clearing their throats loudly from the entry way snapped the two blonds out of their haze. Arthur turned his head toward the door, fearing who ever had caught him in that particular positon. A squeak escaped him as he saw a smirking Marcello successfully blocking the view of four pairs of curious young eyes and attempting to block a fifth. The red haired young man raised a suggestive eyebrow, drawing Arthur back to the position he and Alfred were still in. Arthur sat up before his blue eyed partner had a chance to move and ended up head butting him in his rush to stand up, much to the amusement of the chuckling red headed teenager watching.

“Signore Kirkland, non sapevo che gli piace da dietro ~” Marcello snickered with a suggestive wiggle of his raised eyebrow.

“Marcello, shut up and get out!” The blush on Arthur’s cheeks would have made a chili pepper look pale as he finally stood upright and glared at his young assistant instructor.

“Fine fine. Come wait outside children. We need to give Mr. Kirkland a few minutes to finish up his business here.” Marcello started steering the children back out to the foyer to wait for class to start, but before he left Marcello turned and softly said “Don’t take too long or the children will get curious. You know how Peter and Franz get. And Kristoff is back too, so there really will be no stopping them.” And with a wink he disappeared through the doorway.

Arthur let out a frustrated sigh and directed his attention back to the man who, until a few moments ago, was giving him the best pleasure he’d had in a while.

“So I guess the moment’s over huh?” Alfred mumbled dejectedly. Arthur hated to see the put out look on his face, so he placed a gentle hand on Alfred’s cheek, stood on his toes, and gave him a soft sweet kiss. It was nothing like the burning impassioned kiss they shared before they were so rudely interrupted, but it held promise that this was not the end.

“For now, love. Hold on for me?” Arthur responded once he pulled back. The light returned to the baby blue eyes that he could now admit he had fallen in love with and caused him to softly smile.

“Can we pick back up where we left off after class, Mr. Kirkland?” Alfred’s eyes fell to half-mast and his normally light sounding baritone voice held promise of things not meant to be said with children in the vicinity.

Arthur kissed him again, deeper than the sweet peck they’d shared moments ago. “Not yet. Once this competition is over however, I’m all yours.” Arthur turned toward the door where, as Marcello predicted, Peter, Franz, and Kristoff were peaking in the doorway. Marcello leaned against the wall with a mischievous smirk and Wendy sat next to him with Nicolae, watching their fellow classmates invade their instructor’s privacy. Arthur shook his head with in amused exasperation as he signaled for them to come in. “Good afternoon my dears. Come on in. Marcello run warm up, I’ll join you all in a minute.”

“You got it Arthur.” Marcello strutted into the main room of the studio smirking. “Come along my little ducklings, you heard the boss, time for warm up.” The students filed in after him, casting curious gazes at the blue eyed man that was just on top of their instructor.

Alfred met each gaze with an amused smile, seeing if he could place names to the faces he’d seen all those week ago after his fight with Arthur.  Two students stopped directly in front of him, the one with the eyebrows that could easily have gone toe to toe (figuratively) with Arthur’s own, and the light ginger haired young man with a scar across his face. _Peter and… Kristoff I think. Must. Not. Sing. The. Song!_ “Can I help you two with something?” He quirked a curious eyebrow at the two students, awaiting an answer.

“Who exactly are you? I saw you watching our class a few weeks ago. You’re not some kind of weird pervert are you?” Peter spoke up mimicking Arthur’s skeptical raised eyebrow expression so perfectly that Alfred couldn’t help but laugh.

“What are you laughing about? This is serious! We’ll kick your ass if you are!” Kristoff backed his friend up, attempting to make himself seem larger than he actually was. The sight was so adorable that it actually made Alfred laugh harder.

“Peter! Kristoff! Stop bothering him, He’s not a pervert. He’s a friend of mine.” Arthur spoke up in defense of Alfred. He’d seen what had happened to people that got on his student’s bad side and he wanted to save Alfred from that horrifying fate.

“Arthur, it’s okay.” Alfred finally stopped laughing and caught his breath. He met the glares of the two boys in front of him with a gentle, teacher –like smile. “I’m really not a pervert. My name is Alfred, I’m a dancer too, and Arthur is my partner. The last time I was here I needed to talk to Arthur that’s all.”

Kristoff stared at the man smiling so gently at him and his friend and blushed. Peter shot him a weird look and returned his attention to Alfred. “I guess that’s fine then. But I got my eye on you. You do anything to Arthur and I’ll make you suffer.” Peter walked off to join his classmates, dragging the still blushing Kristoff with him to warm up.

“I’m so sorry about that Al. They’re usually not like that…okay they are but it was still rude.” Arthur stood next to his bespectacled boyfriend but refused to look him in the eye out of embarrassment. He felt Alfred turn his face toward his own and he went without resistance. The smile on Alfred’s face melted away any embarrassment at the antics of his students, and he smiled back.

“They’re adorable. Especially your little fixer upper over there.” Alfred pressed a kiss to Arthur’s temple.

“Fixer upper?” Arthur relaxed against Alfred’s side and watched his students running their warm up and drills under Marcello’s direction.

“You never saw Frozen did you? Gonna have to fix that. I propose a movie marathon this weekend.” Alfred rested an arm across Arthur’s shoulders, pulling him in tighter into his side.

“Did you just invite yourself to my flat?”

“Or we could go to my place. I don’t really care where we go, as long as I can be with you when I’m there.” Alfred blushed softly at the cheesy words coming out of his mouth and buried his face in Arthur’s hair.

“That’s adorable. Okay I’ll let you come over, as long as you promise to cook for me and I pick what we watch after… Frozen? It was Frozen right?” Arthur turned his face up and turned his face up to kiss Alfred’s cheek. “Alright, Let me go. My students are waiting.” He slipped out of his partner’s arms.

“Can I stay and watch?”

“Only if you promise to give a mini lesson. I think they’d love working with you. And a change of style might do them some good too.” Arthur walked toward his students and dove right into practicing the simple jazz piece that they were learning the first time Alfred caught their class.

Arthur, Alfred learned, was a firm but gentle teacher with his students. He made corrections, but he never made his students feel like they failed.  His students were all smiles and snarky comments, making him laugh as he looked on. Franz, for all that he was borderline terrifyingly crazy, showed great potential as a lead dancer. Wendy had similar potential but she kept it hidden behind small, shy movements. Nicolae had great suspension and agility that, if used properly, could create the illusion of brief flight. Peter had more energy than was strictly necessary and it made him better with faster movement than with holding, slow movements. And Kristoff… _damn it’s really hard not to hear the songs…_ he has heart. Looking over all of the young dancers, Alfred started running through songs that he could choreograph to that would work to all of their strengths. He thought back to the music he grew up with and ran through playlist after playlist looking for the perfect-

“Excuse me.” Marcello slid down to sit next to him. “Surveying the troops?” Marcello’s voice held a mischievous, devious note. “Or are you just enjoying the view of Arthur from down here? He’s not really my type but I must say, the view isn’t bad.”

“You’re Marcello right? Shouldn’t you be working with the students? Nicolae seems to be having some difficulties following along.” Alfred glanced at the young man sitting next to him. It was hard to tell what his strengths were but he looked like you’d never figure all of them out even after watching him really perform.

“He’ll get it soon enough. Just watch. I’m actually over here to figure a way around ‘Arthur Ceiling Prevention Plan 5’. Well and to get an idea about you before you take over class for the day.” Alfred felt like he was being analyzed under a microscope as Marcello looked him over. “It doesn’t look like you’ll cause too much trouble.”

“Glad I got the assistant instructor seal of approval.” Alfred adjusted his glasses and glanced at the ceiling. “Hey Marcello.”

“Marc please. I think we’re going to be friends.” Marcello’s smile held promises of hilarious chaos and Alfred was all in.

“Marc then.” Alfred’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Follow my finger.” He mapped out a path up to the ceiling. “That’s how you get around whatever this plan is.” Alfred picked himself up off the ground as Arthur called for him to take over the class. “Consider it a gesture of friendship.” Alfred winked then walked to put his plans for choreography into play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again readers! This weeks chapter is brought to you by Sexy Silk by Jessica Cornish. First things first, I promise this is the last fight in this story. I don't really deal in fluff, so my writing tends to take me towards building sexual tension until it explodes. But I attempted fluff and such this time around. Hopefully it didn't fall flat. Second, we have some lovely Italian spoken in this chapter by the wonderfully mischievous Marcello (Seborga for those that have forgotten) that I will now translate.  
> Signore Kirkland, non sapevo che gli piace da dietro - Mr. Kirkland, I didn't know you like it from behind.  
> I'd like to thank my dear bffl and fellow author majorleeobvious, whom is responsible for the lovely Italian spoken here. Shameless plug time, If you aren't fans, you should really check her out. Get acquainted with her work because she may (or may not) be back. Alright back to the content of this chapter, anyone want to venture a guess at which Micronation is my favorite to write? and I'm off topic again. This chapter was originally supposed to end about 1,000 words before it actually did so if it seems awkward, you have my sincerest apologies. Thanks you to all the readers, commenters, and people leaving kudos, they are so very appreciated. Feel free to keep doing your thing and I'll keep doing mine. okay so that's the end of my rambling for the week. See you in 7 days~ SgtCoolWhip


	10. I Just Wanna Talk to Him (I Just Wanna Kill Him)

There are phases that everyone goes through in life that they’d rather forget. For Matthew that phase involved high school, black nail polish, and unfortunate struggles with a $200 flat iron. To this day he can’t look at one without shuddering at the burns he’d gotten during that dark point in his life. The only good thing that came out of the evils of adolescence and secondary school education was his taste in music expanding beyond the bubble gum pop constantly flooding radio airways.

The dirty blond man nodded his head to the music flooding his kitchen as prepared a cheeseburger feast for his brother, whom would be walking through the door at any moment. As he slowly started forming patties, one right after another, his hips swinging to and fro in time to the music on his Fall Out Boy playlist. Even though he had grown out of the phase in his life when he first began building up the playlist, he never quite grew out of this particular band. Matthew would be the first to admit that while he could sing, his voice was vastly different from that of Alfred, but as he was forming patties he couldn’t have cared less about the places his voice broke as he sang to I Don’t Care at the top of his lungs.

I don’t care what you think

As long as it’s about me

The best of us can find happiness, in misery

I don’t care what you think

As long as it’s about me

The best of us can find happiness, in misery

In the midst of his jamming Matthew failed to see his dear twin slide into the room and slither up behind him to wind his arms around his torso. Falling in time with Matthew’s hips, Alfred rested his chin on his brother’s shoulder, listening to him singing along to the music flowing throughout the kitchen. His voice broke once again in a place it that it honestly shouldn’t have and Matthew silently swore he would get Francis back for making him scream and beg so much the last time he was there as the song ended and the next began. 

“Wow an entire FOB playlist?” Matthew could hear the teasing grin in his brother’s voice.

_Al don’t do this. You know this is a game you don’t want to play with me. I always win and I really don’t want to make you cry. Not when you’re in such a good mood._

“I thought you got over them when you finally got out of that emo phase in high school.” Alfred suddenly had a flashback to walking in on Matthew attempting to tame his wayward curl and burning his fingers in the process. “Oh man, remember how you used to try and straighten your hair and dyed the ends of it purple trying to be different?” Alfred was helpless with laughter at the visuals of emo high school Mattie.

Matthew sighed, already feeling a little bad about what he was about to do to his brother.

_You brought this on yourself._

“Funny Alfred. I seem to remember something else about high school.”

“And what might that be little brother?” Alfred had finally caught his breath after his laughing fit. He was finally standing upright holding his side that had started to cramp while he was trying to both breathe and laugh at the same time.

“Do you happen to remember the jock strap incident?” An evil smile slowly crept onto his face at the way Al’s blue eyes widened. “I seem to remember hearing some interesting sounds coming from the locker room that day. Remember what that was Alfred?” The honey blond started backing away into a tight corner and sank to the floor with his hands over his head.

“First rule of football training: Do not talk about football training…” Alfred trembled in the corner mumbling the rules of football training on loop. Matthew felt a tiny bit guilty for bringing up those particular memories, but it was the only way he could guarantee that discussions of things they had agreed would never be mentioned again would NOT be mentioned EVER AGAIN.

“You brought that on yourself. Now if you’re done with the whole self-punishment thing, sit down at the table while I finish these burgers.” Matthew turned his back and returned to shaping patties.

“Yes sir.” Alfred picked himself up off the tiles and plopped down in his usual chair. He watched his brother work and noticed the slightly off way that he was standing.

 “So dear brother, what really brings you over into my neck of the woods? It can’t just be that you want to spend time with you sweet younger twin. Before you act what I’m talking about, if you wanted to spend time over here you have a key, you could have come over at damn near any point. You’ve done so before, remember? I woke up to a Disney playlist and fresh pancakes. Not that I’m complaining. So what’s up?” Matthew started laying out the excessive amount of patties in the waiting skillet to cook, awaiting his brother’s response

“Our dear cousin Clinton has escaped our aunt’s house yet again. And he has taken up residence on my couch… again. Why doesn’t he ever come over here? I know he likes you!” Alfred rested his chiseled chin on his palm observing his twin, making note of everything that seemed just the slightest bit off about him.

“I seem to remember someone” Matthew shot his twin an accusing glare, “convincing him that I was, oh what were the exact words a ‘boring loser that doesn’t know how to have fun’ when he was five. So now he sticks to the one he perceives to be the fun twin.” He turned his attention back to the burgers, making sure they were just the way his brother liked them.

Alfred nervously started playing with his hair, trying to look smaller and more apologetic. “Did I say that? I’m so sorry. You know I didn’t mean it. I just say things and I don’t think about them.”

“Yes yes Alfred. I accepted that years ago… I believe it was 22 years ago that I started to accept it.”

“There’s no way you could have been aware of that when we were one. We were too busy trying to drive our parents up the wall with the disappearing act and the switching place thing. You know mom is still mad about that? Dad thinks it’s hilarious. Anyway, brother dear, what have you been up to? It seems like forever since we talked like this.”

“Al if you start singing ‘Do You Wanna Build a Snowman’ I swear I will hit you with a skillet” Matthew threatened, already hearing the set up. He was glad his brother’s inner child never died, but if he heard him sing another song from Frozen he was going to be short a twin.

“Oh you’re no fun Mattie!” Alfred poked out his lip in an over exaggerated pout. “Besides you know that if you killed me, you’d be in a worse place that George after Fred died at the end of Deathly Hallows.”

“Al, no matter how many years it had been, it will always be too soon.” Matthew still had to hold back tears when he thought about how many of his favorite characters didn’t make it through the final installment of the Harry Potter series.

“Now back to the original topic of conversation. What have you been up to lately? Having a fun time with your partner?” Without looking, Matthew knew that Alfred had a curious eyebrow quirked and he was getting a bad feeling about how this conversation was going to end. So Matthew did what he always does when he feels an imminent threat coming from his brother, he threw the question right back at him to stall for time.

“I’ll tell if you do. What’s go you walking on sunshine lately? The last time we talked like this you seemed like you were fighting back homicidal urges. Did something happen with your green eyed hottie?” Matthew focused on the 10 patties he had been busy making, eight of which would be consumed by his brother alone, having successfully bought himself some time to weasel out of admitting what he had been up to with Francis.

“First of all, his name is Arthur, as you should well know. Second, yeah something happened. We finally worked everything out and…” Alfred launched into his tale of everything that had transpired after they bumped into each other at The Flying Dutchman the month before. Matthew could hear the frustration at the constantly building sexual tension that Arthur had put his brother through and had to suppress his own spike of over protective brother instinct at the hurt laced in Alfred’s words.  The feeling quickly passed as Al’s tone brightened with the release of some of that tension and the somewhat hilarious (at least in Matthew’s opinion) interruption of Arthur’s assistant instructor. “So yeah, we’re sort of a thing now, but I really can’t wait for this competition to be over. Spending the night at his place every few days is doing a number on my self-control especially with him cuddling up to me in his sleep. Oh yeah, he made sit through the entirety of Sherlock. Gotta say I liked it. There’s something about Sherlock that I find entertaining as a character.” By the time he had finished his story, a plate laden with a huge burger consisting of four patties coated in American, Swiss, Cheddar, and Pepper Jack cheeses, lettuce, tomato, and a pickle on a toasted bun held together by a skewer and an enormous pile of homemade fries was placed in front of him and he could barely contain his drool.

“That man has managed the impossible. I’ve been trying to get you to watch that for over a year Al. Glad to see someone can get through that skull of yours.” Matthew released the plate in front of his brother and started backing out of what he lovingly called his brother’s danger zone.

“Mattie you are a sai-…” As Alfred was about to begin his usual shower of complements he caught sight of Matthew’s slightly bruised wrists. He grabbed hold of the lavender eyed male’s forearm, making a conscious effort not to hurt him and examined the marks. Baby blue eyes met panicking lavender as Alfred asked the one question that Matthew had been dreading. “Matthew, what happened to your wrists?” His question was met with silence as Matthew averted his eyes, unable to hold his brother’s intense gaze. Without releasing his grip on Mathew’s arm, Alfred stood so that he was at eye level with his twin. Matthew felt like he was two inches tall when his brother stared at him and asked the question again. “Matthew. What happened to your wrists?” Matthew continued to not meet Alfred’s eye, knowing that the longer he remained silent, the worse the consequences would be.

“Matthew Pierre Williams!” Matthew’s head snapped up at the sound of his full name falling from his brother’s lips in a dangerous whisper.

_This is it. This is how I die. The last time Alfred used my full name, all hell broke loose! I’m too young to die! I just hope Francis will avenge me._ Matthew mentally listed all of his regrets as Alfred stared him dead in the eye waiting for a response.

“Answer me right now or so help me high school will only be the third worst thing that ever happened to you after I’m done with you.” The fire burning behind those baby blue eyes let Matthew know that Alfred was not bluffing.

“Alright I’ll talk, just please calm down first. There are still cities in the Midwest we can’t go back to because of the last time you got this angry.” Matthew had to accept the fact that there was no way that he was getting out of this without Alfred knowing everything. He just hoped that he had enough time to warn Francis to get out of the country before Al went hunting for him with an ax if Matthew couldn’t calm him down.

“I’m calm. Now tell me.” Alfred sat back down crossing his arms. He ignored the food that was slowly cooling in front of him. His brother being hurt was far too serious for food.

“Okay. So um… this kind of has to do with why the Fall Out Boy playlist came out of retirement.” Matthew was still stalling, hoping Al would start eating so that his hands would be too occupied to put a hole in his wall then go hunt down his boyfriend.

“Stop stalling and tell me what happened.” Alfred’s eyes hardened as he grew more irritated with his brother refusing to give him the answers he wanted.

“Well Francis may have been looking through my closet, and he may have found some things and we might have gotten a teensy bit rough the other day. It’s nothing you really need to worry about.” Matthew watched his brother cautiously, not trusting the calm expression resting on his face.

“Hm. Alright.” Alfred calmly picked up a single fry and took a bite. Matthew visibly sagged with relief that Al was occupying his hands with food instead of sharpening one of Matthew’s knives. “So how long have you two been a thing?” Alfred removed the skewer from his overlarge burger and took a bite, appearing more focused on food than anything else.

“Um… a few weeks I guess. It was a little after we started working together. I know I was sort of complaining about him in the beginning but he was persistent and he won me over.” Matthew picked at his own food, looking down at a particularly interesting grain in his table to avoid his brother analyzing the blush creeping up his cheeks.

“So, what exactly were you up to that resulted in you having bruised wrists and the remnants of a pretty nasty limp?”

 “You saw that huh? Francis found an old pair of handcuffs and a blindfold in back of my closet because he gets a little nosey. I went to see what he was up to and somewhere in between my arriving at the door and him sticking his tongue in my mouth his control snapped and well…” Matthew’s voice kind of trailed off at the end of his story. He chanced a glance up at his majorly protective brother and saw that in the midst of his recounting of his sexual escapades, Alfred had finished eating.

“Interesting.” Alfred calmly wiped the crumbs away from his lips and stood to take his plate to the sink. “You know I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of officially meeting your boyfriend,” The sound of running water splashing against ceramic almost blocked the malicious undertones of his voice. But Matthew, knowing his brother too well to fall into the trap his was laying out, attempted to divert to subject of this conversation back to Alfred’s budding love life.

“I could say the same thing about your boyfriend my dear brother.” Matthew tried to keep his tone playful in hopes of defusing the anger bubbling under Alfred’s calm exterior.

“You’re not changing the subject and making this about me, young man. How about calling him over? We can have a little chat about leaving bruises on my baby brother. Oh don’t throw that oil out Mattie. I’m going to need it, and possibly a body bag if I really don’t like his answer. I’ll make sure that I don’t ruin the carpet of course. I remember what happened last time. ”

“God you sound just like mom. I told you that you have nothing to worry about, so why are you still upset?” Matthew stood behind his fuming brother, hugging him around his center. If nothing else would calm Alfred down and get him to listen, a hug from his little brother would do the trick.

Alfred sighed and physically relaxed in his brother’s arms. “I just want you to be happy. If he hurt you then it’s my job to deal with him because you’re my little brother.” He leaned his head back on Matthew’s shoulder with a smile. “The only one that can beat up on you is me.”

“Gee thanks Al.” Matthew rested his cheek against his brother’s back smiling. “So what’s your other reason for wanting to cause Francis harm? Before you ask what I’m talking about, you need to remember that I know you just as well as you know me.”

“Arthur and Francis have a bit of history. I just wanted to talk to him about it, until I saw the marks on your wrists. Then I wanted kill him.”

“You’re an overprotective idiot. You know that right?” Matthew released Alfred from his arms and moved to sit on the counter next to him.

“Yeah yeah, you’ve told me. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll back off and not kill your boyfriend if you swear to never under any circumstances mention what happened in high school again. Seriously I still get nightmares.” Alfred’s baby blue eyes darkened at the memories he wished he could wipe away.

“Fine, but the minute you threaten Francis I’ll be ready to tell Arthur all of your high school incidents. I might even tell him right before you guys have to take the stage at the competition.”

“You wouldn’t…”

The evil smirk spread across Matthew’s lips once again as he whispered, mimicking Alfred’s tone from earlier “Try me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening (I don't know what time you're reading this or where you are) dear readers. This chapter is brought to you by I Don't Care by Fall Out Boy (and an FOB playlist). Moving on, I told you that another brothers chapter was coming. Also I know Matthew doesn't have an actual middle name but I feel it portrayed exactly the effect I wanted. Everyone has that person that says their full name and you know you fucked up really bad. Anywho, any guesses who Clinton is? I'll give you a few hints, he has been aged down to about 9-10 years old, and he is a micronation( I know you guys didn't think I was done with them yet. I've got at least three more to play with). So the next chapter is that start of what we've all been waiting for: THE COMPETITION!!! And we get to meet our final judge and play with our two known judges. Yay!! Thank you to all of you lovely readers, commenters, and leavers of kudos! They are so very appreciated and they let me know I'm taking this in the right direction. So did I cover everything? I'm not sure. Let me know if I didn't. Okay, enough rambling. See you all next week! ~ SgtCoolWhip


	11. So It Begins

Lovino Vargas sat in the center judges chair running his fingers through his chestnut colored hair, contemplating the pros and cons of killing his fellow judges and leaving this stupid competition. Between the near constant cackling on his right, the prissy complaining on his left, and the absolutely atrocious dancing( if it could even be called dancing) before his eyes, the pros were by far outweighing the cons.

_I don’t even know why I’m here. None of these dancers are even worth my time. When I was still competing I would have wiped the floor with all of them. Stupid knee injury took me out of the game before I could really show what I could do. Now I’m stuck with these two bastardos thanks to that damn party and I can’t get rid of them because Toño would hate me for it. Not that I care what that Spanish bastard thinks. He and his damn stupid sexy lisp don’t matter. Even though he is one of the best things that ever happened to me. I just wish he didn’t come packaged with the damn potato bastard and the French pervert._

“Onhonhonhon~” As if his thoughts had the power to summon the devil himself, the accented laugh that instantly made his skin crawl rang out from backstage as the golden blond object of more of his nightmares than he cared to admit took center stage coupled with a meek looking, lavender eyed, dirty blond.

_Oh God! What did I do to deserve this? Is this because of that time I hung Feli upside down from that tree? I wasn’t going to drop him! I just wanted him to stop sneaking into my room and bothering me! And grandpa already punished me for it. Wasn’t that enough? Why did you need to send him to make this worse?..._

“Hey Francy-Pants! Why didn’t you say you were going to be in this competition? The awesome me would have put you first to save some time. And is this the little cutie you were telling me about? Because if he is, you’re right, he does give mein awesome brain a few ideas about things we can do together.” Gilbert was on the verge of listing some of those ideas when he was stuck on the side of his white blond, beer soaked head by a flying stapler.

As Lovino was picking himself up off of the floor, the first thought that came to mind was: _And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the reason I keep Roderich around,_ as Francis laughed with the comment, “Roderich, your aim has improved since last we met.” Roderich simply shifted he amethyst colored glare from the man he unfortunately called his husband to his husband’s golden blond best friend and growled “Yes it has you blond pervert. Want to see firsthand just how much it has improved?”

“How I have missed you, mon cher.” Francis’ fond gaze finally moved to the center chair occupied by Lovino, who was wishing he could be anywhere but here. “Onhohonhon~ Bon l’apres midi mon mignon piaf. So good to see your frowning face.”

What little hope Lovi had of going unrecognized died behind his golden eyes. He looked up to meet Francis’ ocean colored eyes and calmly replied “Ciao Francis, hanno giá revocato l’ordinanza restrittiva?” which had Roderich looking away covering a smile and Gilbert giving up on pouting and laughing outright.

“Awww Lovi words hurt. But I know a way you can make it up to me honhonhon~.” Just as Lovi’s skin was beginning to crawl, Francis was rubbing the back of his skull after having it roughly smacked by his simultaneously embarrassed and frustrated looking partner.

“You,” Lovino glanced down at their score sheet, “Matthew. I like you. Anyone that can smack this bastardo around without getting in trouble for it is alright with me.” It took more control than Lovino thought he had to not laugh at the nod he received from Matthew, who was still glaring at Francis with icy lavender eyes.

“Now you’ve turned my lover against me? Where does it end my precious Italian?”

“Just get started before I puke on your score sheet and disqualify your perverted ass.” Lovino could already feel a headache coming on that aspirin would never be enough for.

* * *

Matthew was nervous. He was confident in his ability to perform flawlessly but that never stopped his heart from racing and his breathing from speeding up to the point of hyperventilation. And to make matters worse, Francis has spent the better part of five minutes antagonizing one of the judges. The way things were looking Mathew figured it might be a good idea to let Al and a few others have “words” with his dear boyfriend.

“Matthew, relax” Francis’ whispered words brushed across his earlobe sending a shiver down his spine and causing his heart to skip a beat. “We’ll be fine. Just imagine it’s just us in the studio. The only difference this time is that we’re in costume. If that doesn’t help, imagine how much fun it will be to take them off. Okay, cher?”

Mathew’s imagination immediately conjured up the image of him removing Francis’ fiery red sleeveless wrap shirt and tight red pants as Francis left kisses down his neck and rid him of his acid green shirt, short shorts and fishnet leggings while simultaneously letting his hand wander. He was so lost in his imagination that he almost had a heart attack when Francis took his hand, kissed it, and dragged him to their starting positions. Oh Matthew couldn’t wait to get those costumes off after this.

Francis stood behind Matthew and wrapped his arm around his waist. Matthews’ eyes met ocean blue orbs with promises of things that should not be legal as the music flooded the auditorium.

Baby, can’t you see

I’m callin

A guy like you

Should wear a warnin

It’s dangerous

I’m fallin

Matthew smirked up at Francis as he melted out of the golden blonde’s grasp as he had done thousands of times in rehearsal. He spun himself just out of Francis’ reach adding a bit more of a teasing swing to his hips before gracefully falling back into a waiting Francis’ arms. Francis let his had travel up Matthew’s torso to brush across his covered nipple causing a barely audible gasp to slip past his lavender eyed temptress’s lovely pink lips.

There’s no escape, I can’t wait

I need a hit, Baby give me it

You’re dangerous

I’m lovin it

Matthew latched onto Francis’ left hand and rolled over his arm onto the floor. The usual gleam was in his eyes that promised both the usual naughtiness and so much more as he pulled Francis down to hover over his body. He rolled his groin up against Francis’ and saw the exact moment when his golden blond partner’s control began to slip

With the taste of your lips, I’m on a ride

You’re toxic, I’m slippin under

With the taste of a poison paradise

I’m addicted to you, don’t you know that you’re toxic?

Matthew wrapped his arm around Francis’ neck, pulling himself up so that they were body to body. Francis took his weight and swung him out from between his legs. Enjoying the heady feeling of soaring, Matthew grabbed hold of Francis’ shoulders as gravity took over and he landed daintily on the balls of his feet behind his partner. They stood back to back, hips jutting out, connected only by their shoulder blades. The pair rolled their bodies creating a wave like motion, connecting part of their backsides in turn until they were falling away from each other. They clasped hands and Francis pulled himself back upright. He dragged Matthew back towards him and spun him twice until they were face to face. They moved simultaneously, hips winding and rolling against each other in ways that bordered indecency, especially if the way Roderich was blushing and Matthew’s barely audible moan at the contact was the measure. Francis cross stepped his way back behind Matthew  right as the dirty blond executed an attitude around his waist. He grabbed onto Matthew’s thigh, just shy of a half mast barely concealed erection, and lifted him so that he could temptingly slither around behind Francis. Matthew then started slowly sliding down into a full split as Francis performed a toe-touch jump, landing in a crouch behind Matthew. As the music began to fade, Francis leaned down and gently bit Matthew’s neck while Matthew reached one arm up behind Francis to hold him in place as he tilted his head to the side.

The silence in the auditorium was only broken by the two dancers trying to catch their breath after their performance. It held steady until it finally collapsed under the applause started by Gilbert. Soon the room was filled with the claps and cheers from the audience as Matthew and Francis rose from their finishing positions on the floor. The duo took a bow and smiled at each other before sharing a simple yet sizzling kiss, the atmosphere their performance created still hanging heavily in the air.

“And now,” a female voice cut through the cheers and applause by the audience via the speaker system “we will hear comments from our judges. Please note that score will still not be announced and if one more audience member asks me about it they will meet the business end of my skillet. Now we’ll begin with technique. Roderich, darling?”

“Thank you Elizabeta. Technique wise I must say that yours was surprisingly strong, that is after one gets past the fact that you both were molesting each other on stage. The use of your strength and knowledge of when to release it really enhanced the performance. Well done.” Roderich sat back in his chair and took a sip of tea hoping it would calm him down, because he was about forty five seconds away from dragging Gilbert into a backroom to relieve some of the tension building up in his system since the pair onstage started their piece.

“And now skill, Dumbass?”

“Oh Liz, we talked about this. You need to call me by mein awesome name. Are you still mad that Roddy likes me better?”

There was a long suffering sigh over the sound system before Elizabeta replied “Gilbert, you should really remember who has been helping Roderich with his aim. I have my skillet up here and a clear shot. You’d be out for a week.”

“Fine. I’ll now give mein awesome opinion. Skill wise my favorite was your use of the entire space through lifts jumps and floor work. Many dancers don’t understand the sheer awesomeness of using an entire space to make a dance more awesome than it originally was. So in short, your use of skill was almost as awesome as mein awesome self. And a side note to Rodders, you are needed in the general vicinity of mein pants as soon as Francis and Matthew have vacated the stage.” Gilbert quickly ducked as the stapler and a skillet came flying at him and let out a deranged sounding cackle.

“And finally we have Passion and Chemistry. Lovino, any words that won’t make one of our contestants run crying or are you going ten for ten?” Elizabeta’s voice had dropped the frustrated tone and picked up a teasing sort of lilt as she spoke to Lovi about his bad habit of making at least one person cry before they day was out.

Lovino sat staring at the stage and the two dancers on it. Francis was grinning like the pervert he was and Matthew…his personality did a full 180 from when he was dancing. He went from being bold, and daring almost bordering raunchy, to shy, blushing, and terrified of his own shadow. Truly an interesting dancer, he might just prove to be someone worthy of the time Lovino wasted being trapped in this room.

With these thoughts in mind Lovino sucked in a deep breath and turned his razor like tongue on the contestant he knew could take it with a smile. “Complementi Francis, you have once again succeeded in corrupting what little innocence I have left.  How this guy puts up with you I will never know. But you two need to get your overly passionate selves out of this room so every can breathe air instead of your fucking pheromones.”

Francis met his backhanded compliment with a smile and replied in the tone that he reserved specifically for his best friends’ fiery significant others. “Tell Antoine I said you’re welcome. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the removal of your last bit of innocence.”

“Stai zitto bastardo, before I change my mind about your score.” Lovino’s cheeks reddened at the mention of Toño and his innocence in the same sentence, but no one needed to know the cause of what Toño called his ‘Little Tomato’ face, least of all Francis. “Get the fuck off my stage. And Matthew, good luck with him. You’re going to need it.” He gave Matthew his most sympathetic look as Francis’ hand slid behind his back, far too low to be anywhere but on his ass.

“Awww. J’adore toi aussi, mon beau Italien.” With that statement, he steered both himself and Matthew off stage and revealed his hand was exactly where Lovino believed it to have been.

Lovino’s sympathetic gaze dropped into one of disgust as he mumbled “Ugh, com’é schiffoso.” As Francis’ trademark perverted “Onhonhonhon~” drifted out from back stage once more.

* * *

Backstage, it was taking everything within Francis to not make good on those filthy promises from the dancefloor and shredding Matthew’s costume as he pushed the lavender eyed man up against a wall and kissed him deeply. By the way Matthew was attempting to remove Francis’ top, he didn’t much care if there was an audience or not. He just wanted that golden blond beauty naked and inside him ASAP, And Francis almost obliged until…

“Ahem.” A very loud and obvious throat clearing. Matthew looked up with a burning glare that immediately morphed into an expression of frozen terror.

“Hey Mattie.” Alfred’s smile could freeze an active volcano as he looked over his brother and Francis in what could only be described as a compromising position. Francis was palming Matthew’s backside and there were already three mark appearing on the side of his neck.

“Uh…hey Al. Um this is Francis. Francis this is the twin brother I mentioned.” Matthew knew that getting Al’s approval at the rate they were going was slim to none but he had to at least try.

Disentangling himself from Matthew’s limbs, Francis composed himself and, with a friendly smile, offered a hand to Alfred. “So you’re Alfred F. Jones. I’ve heard so much about you from Matthew, pleasure to finally officially meet you in person.”

Alfred squeezed Francis’ hand in warning as he shook, all without dropping the seemingly innocent smile. “Same here dude. I’d love to have a talk with you sometime about my brother.” Matthew was giving him a look that said he had not forgotten his promise to reveal the particulars of the jockstrap incident to Arthur if Al did anything to harm Francis.

“Sounds like fun.” Francis replied good naturedly as an ash blond man came rushing in with an “Alfred, love we’re up next” before turning his forest green eyes up to Francis. “Frog.”

“Arthur when are you going to let it go?” Francis released Alfred’s hand to massage his temple, ignoring the persistent throbbing and pain shooting through his hand from Alfred’s grip.

“When I damn well fucking please. Now Al, dearest, can you zip this up?” Arthur dropped his thin jacket to reveal a sleeveless, formfitting turtle neck modeled after the Union Jack.

“Sure thing babe. By the way, you remember my brother Matthew. Mattie this is Arthur. There official introductions are done and we can do embarrassment later.” He finished zipping Arthur up with a kiss to the cheek. “We need to be onstage in the next thirty seconds.”

“Pleasure seeing you again Matthew.” Arthur turned to follow Alfred out onto stage with one final thought.

_Go Time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well dear readers, we have reached the beginning of the end. This chapter is brought to you by Toxic by Brittney Spears. Firstly I'd like to once again thank my dear bffl, fellow author, other half of my brain, and walking cheese curd majorleeobvious for the lovely Italian spoken by the ever pleasant Lovino, our lovely third judge. I will, of course, proceed to translate.  
> Italian:  
> Ciao Francis, hanno giá revocato l’ordinanza restrittiva?- Hello Francis, Have they lifted the restraining order already?  
> Complementi- Congratulations  
> Stai zitto bastardo- Shut up Bastard  
> com’é schiffoso (loosely)- He’s so gross/disgusting/revolting
> 
> Isn't he just charming? Francis isn't really much better but we knew that. Speaking of which.  
> French:  
> Bon l'apres midi mon mignon piaf- Good after noon my cute sparrow (There's an explanation later)  
> J'adore toi aussi, mon beau Italien- I adore you too my beautiful Italian
> 
> So back to the lovely majorleeobvious. Shameless plug time. She's really an amazing writer and even if I weren't her best friend I'd recommend her works. Especially if you're a fan of the fromage. Okay second order of business (Kneels and lowers head) I am so sorry about last weeks rather disappointing chapter. I tried to write myself out of a corner and I ended up with a chapter that was related but also not really. Almost everything in there had a purpose but it could have been better. So you all have my sincerest apologies and my hopes that this chapter makes up for the disappointment of last week. Alright finally, Don't we just love Rodders and Gil? They're a fun time to write and then Liz just tops it off fantastically. Thank you to those of you that have left comments, and Kudos, or just continuously read every week. I appreciate it so much. Please feel free to continue to do whatever you please and never fear voicing you opinion. I'm not a horrible person so I will of course answer to the best of my abilities. So have I rambled enough? I think that's enough. So I'm going to vanish for a while,possibly deal with real life for a while. See you next week~ SgtCoolWhip


	12. FINALLY!!

Alfred stretched his arms over his head with a semi tired groan. Today was the day of reckoning, the day to show what he and Arthur were made of, the day of the competition. He glanced down at his bare chest, at the mess of ash blond hair resting on him with a bleary eyed smile. It was like trying to force a very stubborn moose to move off a road getting Arthur to admit it, but he was a cuddle bug of the worst kind. Every time he would stay over, Arthur would put space in between them in bed as to not tempt him to “try anything funny”. That usually lasted all of an hour before Arthur would roll over into his arms and refuse to move. With the smile still plastered on his lips Alfred reached over to the nightstand beside the bed to pick up his glasses, slide them onto his face and prepare for the second best task of the day after an Arthur sleepover; waking up Arthur.

“Wake up babe.” Alfred leaned down and pressed a kiss to his boyfriend’s bushy brow. “Artie, time to get up.”

“Bugger off.” Arthur first thing in the morning could be violently British…emphasis on the violently.Alfred chuckled and pressed another kiss to his furrowed brow. “Whenever I do , you get upset that I didn’t wake you.”

That statement was met with a drawn out groan and a halfhearted punch to the pectoral not currently being used as a pillow. “Fine. I’m getting up.” Arthur pushed himself up and opened his eyes to see he smiling face of the object of his fantasies.

“Good morning gorgeous.” Alfred kissed Arthur’s perfect pouty lips with a smile.

“You haven’t brushed your teeth yet, disgusting.” Arthur turned his face away and pushed himself off of the bed.

“Well you were just so cute, I couldn’t bring myself to wake you just to take care of oral hygiene.” Alfred rolled off of the mattress, walked over to the open bathroom door and leaned against the door jam, watching Arthur get ready for the day ahead. Arthur bent over to start the shower, making his royal blue pajama pants, decorated with the signature blue scarf of Sherlock Holmes and Cumberbitch written on the rear with blocky white lettering, stretch tight over his ass and causing Alfred’s pulse to race.

“Want some company?” Alfred bit his lip as Arthur stood up, his pants slid lower on his hips.

“Can’t wait until tonight, can you?” Arthur turned and pressed himself against the wall of toned muscle that was Alfred and wrapped his arms around his neck.

Alfred placed his hands on Arthur’s rear and squeezed gently. “I can, but I figured you would want me to have something to tide me over until then.” He gave one of those sparkling smiles that causes Arthur‘s heart to melt and his will to bend.

“Fair enough, love.” Arthur started sliding Alfred’s Captain America pajama’s down his hips to the floor and backed into the shower, stripping himself of his own sleepwear along the way, with a forest eyed wink and pulled the curtain closed.

“Tease.” Alfred let out a playful growl as he joined the fair skinned ash blond in his shower, pushing him up against the cool ceramic tile.

Alfred laid a steaming kiss, hotter than the steady stream of water beating down on the pair of them, on Arthur's lips.

_Just a few more hours and this man will be completely mine._

* * *

Alfred’s eyebrow twitched as he laid baby blue eyes on his twin being pushed against the wall backstage of the competition, in much the same position he had Arthur in earlier that morning.

“Ahem.” He cleared his throat and the pair jumped apart. His brother shot him a glare that quickly transformed into an expression of sheer terror.

“Hey Mattie.” Alfred pulled out the smile that he usually reserved for when his brother really pissed him off but there were too many witnesses to actually take care of the issue.

“Uh… hey Al. Um, this is Francis. Francis this is the twin brother I mentioned.” Matthew gestured between the two, looking like he was plotting the quickest and safest escape from his brother’s wrath. Francis, having not met Alfred and disbelieving of Matthew’s tales of his twin’s temper, disentangled himself from Matthew’s limbs, straightened his costume and extended a hand to Alfred with a smile.

“So you’re Alfred F. Jones. I’ve heard so much about you from Matthew, pleasure to finally meet you in person.” Alfred took the offered hand and applied just enough pressure for his grip to hurt but not enough that it would be obvious to his twin that he was attempting to break Francis’ hand.

“Same here dude. I’d love to have a talk with you sometime about my brother.” Alfred purposely ignored the look his brother was giving him as he dropped Francis hand and stepped back.

“Sounds fun.” Francis’ smile said he had a slight fear for his personal safety, but Alfred didn’t have time to consider this as Arthur came rushing through the backstage door carrying a black fedora with a small green feather tucked into the right side.

“Alfred, love, we’re up next.” He briefly turned his attention to the others waiting backstage and turned a glare on Francis. ”Frog.”

“Arthur, when are you going to let it go?” Francis massaged his temple with the hand that had just been abused by Alfred’s grip. The way it was visibly pulsing made Al feel just a bit better about the situation he was currently in.

“When I damn well fucking please. Now Al, dearest, can you zip this up?” Arthur dropped his thin black jacket to reveal a sleeveless formfitting turtleneck modeled after the Union Jack over a pair of tight black jazz pants.

“Sure thing babe.” Alfred rolled up the sleeves of his own jacket to zip Arthur up. “By the way you remember my brother Matthew. Mattie this is Arthur. There, official introductions done and we can do embarrassment later.” He finished zipping Arthur up with a kiss to the cheek. “We need to be on stage in the next thirty seconds.”

“Pleasure seeing you again Matthew.” Arthur turned to follow Alfred out onto stage with one final thought.

_Go time._

* * *

Arthur joined Alfred right on the edge of the visual portion of the stage and took his hand.

“You ready babe?”

“Always ready love.” The duo shared a sweet kiss before walking out in front of the judges.

As soon as the pair stepped on to the stage all the diehard dance fans lost their shit.

They were cheering. Clapping, screaming, and chanting ‘Arthur Arthur.’

_I didn’t know I had such a huge following._

Arthur smiled and waved, trying to fight down the blush as a familiar cackle reached his ears.

“Kesesesesesesesesesesese. First Francis, now Arthur. Does no one know how to send a warning text? The awesome me could have saved so much time in putting you two head to head instead of dealing with all the other people. And Alfred too? Sup meinAdler!” Alfred raised an eyebrow at the unknown German word that Gilbert used as a nickname. “I just saw your clone with Francis and it was hot! I mean we had to take a break so Rodders could-“ Gilbert was once again struck by a flying object before he could go further into depth than anyone needed to know.

“Thank you Roderich, glad to see your aim has improved. How’s that sense of direction coming along? Arthur flashed a smile at his friend who appeared to be looking for something else to throw.

“Arthur, don’t push your luck. I still haven’t forgiven you for talking me into giving this guy a chance.” Roderich adjusted his purple suit jacket and sat back in his seat, ignoring Gilbert’s protests.

Arthur directed his attention to the center chair where Lovino was picking himself up off the floor after ducking more flying objects. “Ah, always a pleasure to see you Lovino. It really is good to have a judge with a mouth more foul than my own.” He flashed Lovi a crooked grin and awaited the usual snarky comeback as per their unusual friendship.

“Grazie Arturo. Allora per favore  prendi il tuo complimento di merda e ficcatelo nel culo dove appartiene.” Lovino attempted to hide his smile at their usual banter and failed miserably.

“Oh how I have missed you.” Arthur chuckled and shook his head because compared to their usual exchanges this one was tame.

Gilbert, slightly annoyed at being ignored for so long, addressed Alfred directly since he knew that if he went after Arthur he would have to face him, Alfred, Roderich, and Lovino, as well as sleep on the roof because Rodders would lock him out and he’d get exhausted trying to get the windows open on their house without damaging them. “So Alfred, it seems you’ve finally learned the ropes of your babysitting duties with Arthur. You weren’t doing so well at the club that one night.” Right as Alfred was going to reply Arthur cut in and addressed Gil.

“Is this attitude because we’re ignoring you or are you just being an arse just to do it? Give me an answer once we finish, that is if you can still remember the question.” Arthur grabbed Alfred by the front of his jacket and pulled him toward their start positions, depositing the fedora on his head.

“You know you’re really hot when you get all annoyed like that.” Alfred smirked as Arthur pushed him into position so they could get started.

“Just a little longer darling.” Arthur gave him a quick peck and ran to center stage before Al could attempt to deepen it. He turned back toward the pouting honey blond and gave a mischievous wink as the music started.

You make me dance

Brings me up

Brings me down

Plays it sweet

Makes me move like a freak

Mr. Saxobeat

In  a more subtle style than the audience had witnessed in the previous performers, Arthur moved his hips from side to side, then in a circle that arched his spine and stuck his chest out. He repeated the movements in a more exaggerated manner, swinging his arms above his head and stepping out with one leg so that his legs were shoulder width apart, as he circled his hips again pushing his pelvis forward and gave Alfred his invitation to join him.

Oh oh oh oh eh yeah eh

Hm yeah eh hmhmhm yeah eh

Oh oh eh hm yeah eh

Hm yeah eh hmhmhm yeah eh

Alfred sauntered his way up behind Arthur with the swagger of a man determined to get what he wanted. The ladies of the audience cheered as he moved, the way his pants fit accentuating the muscles in his legs and his nicely rounded booty. He ignored the semi audible whispers about yoga pants and pulled one of Arthur’s arms down from above his head to his own hip while unzipping his jacket. The pair rolled and rocked their hips together; Arthur’s other arm coming to rest behind Alfred’s neck. Then suddenly, Arthur pushed his rear into Alfred’s pelvis and leaned his torso forward, purposely knocking Alfred off balance. When Alfred spread his legs to stabilize himself, Arthur elongated his body, grabbing hold of Alfred’s sleeve and slid between his legs to stand behind him. Using the forward momentum, Alfred rolled forward, pulling out of his jacket to reveal a white wifebeater and stabilizing the hat tilting down over his eyes giving him a mysterious troublemaker appearance, and got back to his feet. He reached back, flexing his bicep, to snag Arthur’s hand and drag him to his right side.

Hey sexy boy, set me free

Don’t be so shy. Play with me

My dirty boy, can’t you see

That you belong next to me

Hey sexy boy, set me free

Don’t be so shy, play with me

My dirty boy, can’t you see

You are the one I need

Arthur swung himself out to the full extent of their arms before spinning back into his bespectacled boyfriend’s waiting arms. He rolled his hips in time with Alfred’s twice, stepped behind around his body, taking hold of the hem of Alfred’s shirt and dragging it off along with the hat, as he slipped around Alfred’s body. As he stepped across to Alfred’s left side, he swung his left leg up onto Alfred’s waiting arm and extended it slowly.

You make me dance

Bring me up

Bring me down

Play it sweet

Make me move like a freak

Mr. Saxobeat

As the music began to fade out, Arthur, in a great show of flexibility, shifted his leg up to Alfred’s shoulder and bounced off the ball of his standing foot to spring into Alfred’s waiting free arm. Right as the music cut out he licked a stripe down across Alfred’s jaw tasting the sweat resting on his face, placed the stolen fedora on his own head with a smirk, and Alfred turned toward him with a burning passionate gaze.

The silence that followed their performance easily rivaled that of the one that followed Mathew’s and Francis’. However, instead of Gilbert breaking the silence, Lovino spoke up with red cheeks.

“Madonna, you two practically fucked on this dance floor. For the love of God, do yourselves a favor and just fuck because you have this whole room drowning in your goddamn sexual tension.” As Lovino finished the crowd finally seemed to thaw and the cheering and applause nearly shook the entire building.

“Okay… Well Lovino has given his input already. Before we get to our other two judges, the ladies of the audience have a question for Alfred. Do you mind answering?” Elizabeta’s voice rang out over the speaker system sounding a little more excited than usual.

“Um sure…hit me.” Alfred was just a little concerned about what kind of question this audience might have for him.

“Are you wearing yoga pants or something under those dress pants?” Elizabeta was definitely over excited, as indicated by her hyperventilating.

“Huh?” A very masculine sound of confusion echoed throughout the dance hall.

“Many of our female audience members are convinced that no man’s butt looks that good without help. So… Are you?”

Before Alfred could answer, Arthur spoke up sounding like he was suppressing laughter. “No, he is not wearing any shapewear under those pants. That’s all him, I can promise you that.”

“Thank you Arthur, now while I pass around boxes of Kleenex, we’ll hear input from our final two judges. “ Elizabeta disappeared from the sound booth with what looked to be two tissues, quickly turning red, up her nose.

Roderich and Gilbert looked to each other, neither wanting to be the one to dissect the obvious mating display they had just witnessed.

“Okay” Roderich finally spoke up. “That certainly wasn’t your usual style Arthur. That’s the kind of thing I’d expect from Francis, but never the less technique wise everything was flawless, very clean lines and easily determined intentions. I also stand by Lovino’s statement, please go and get that out of your systems.” He sat back in his chair contemplating a list of things he’d be doing to Gilbert as soon as they were out of the public eye and waited for the white blond man to give his say.

“All I really have to say is wow. I wasn’t expecting a strip tease when I said I would judge this thing, but to have it done in such a skillful manner that made it look easy just made it better. Now please go take care of that sexual tension.” Gilbert smiled and waved them both off stage.

Arthur hopped down from his position in Alfred’s arms, keeping one arm wrapped around him. “Gladly.” The pair of dancers kissed once more for the crowd.

Before the pair could make their grand exit Lovino spoke up once more, addressing Arthur. “Arthur before you leave after the winners are announced, I need to talk to you about some… wardrobe.” He gave a very pointed but subtle glance at Alfred’s pant, hoping that his foul mouthed fellow dancer would catch the hint.

Arthur raised a curious eyebrow as the dots connected in his head. He threw his head back in laughter, causing Alfred to look back at him in confused concern. “You got it Lovi.”  Taking his still very confused partner's hand, Arthur dragged him offstage with a final wave at the judges.

* * *

Alfred’s back made rough contact with Arthur’s bedroom wall, making something crash to the floor in the process. But he paid that no mind because Arthur was kissing him and trying to either gently remove or shred his sweat pants, it was honestly hard to tell at this point. Alfred was a little more focused on getting Arthur’s top off anyway. Arthur finally managed to Alfred’s pants off and thanked every deity he could think of that when he had stripped Alfred of his jacket and wifebeater during the performance, he threw them into the crowd and they never resurfaced and the pants he had worn during the show magically ‘vanished’ forcing him into the easier to remove sweats, so the only thing blocking him from a beautifully naked honey blond god was a tight pair of boxer briefs. Alfred broke their intense kiss to pull Arthur’s shirt over his head, toss it to the floor, and walk him back to the edge of the bed. Alfred slid his hands down the front of Arthur’s jazz pants, attempting to pull them down along with his underwear. The pair returned to sucking face like their lives depended on it while Arthur worked on getting Alfred out of his boxer briefs, purposely teasing the straining erection behind the fabric.

“Fuck!” Alfred groaned and thrust against Arthur’s teasing palm. “You are the worst kind of tease when you’re sober.”

“Just seeing how much you can take before you’re putty in my hands.” Arthur kissed along under Alfred’s jaw, down his neck and back, never pausing the teasing movements of his hand.

Alfred’s breath caught in his throat as Arthur moved to teasing the sensitive underside of his cock. “Little late for that babe. I’ve pretty much been at your mercy since day one. This just cruel and-aah- mean!” Alfred threw his head back and fought the urge to let his knees turn to liquid under Arthur’s ministrations.

The laugh Arthur let out was a little too close to that of an evil genius as he retracted his hand   and Alfred looked like he would cry. “No one ever said I was a nice guy Al. But I guess I can have a bit of mercy on you. Get on the bed, love, and wait for instructions.” As he turned away when Alfred crawled on the bed, Arthur looked back over his shoulder with an evil smirk. “Make sure you keep your hands off darling, can’t have you getting off on your own.” The resulting whimper from that order almost made him feel bad about giving it. Almost. He snagged Alfred’s phone from his discarded pants, having long ago learned the password and input his fingerprint in to the biometric lock. He plugged it into the speakers he kept in his room for just such reasons selecting a song that he had been considering for this moment for weeks.

As the music started Arthur tossed a bottle of lube and a condom toward the bed with Alfred.

You’ve been waiting so long

For me to answer your call

I know that I shouldn’t have had you waiting

At all

I’ve been so busy

But I’ve been thinking about

What I wanna do with you.

Arthur turned toward Alfred and sauntered in the direction of the bed. He prowled forward, forest colored eyes surveying Alfred like a lion surveys his prey. He crawled forward onto the bed, hovering above a very eager Alfred. He completely removed Alfred’s restrictive underwear, earning him a relieved sigh. Arthur leaned down and pressed a light kiss to the head of Alfred’s dick causing a moan to slip past his kiss swollen lips. Arthur smirked and pulled back enjoying the slightly panicked and frustrated expression on Alfred’s face. He sat back on his knees slowly sliding the jazz pants down his legs leaving him bare before his blue eyed lover.

It’s me and you, now

I’ve been waiting

Think I wanna make that move, now

Baby tell me if you like it

Arthur snatched up the bottle of lube, cracked it open, and spread a liberal amount on his fingers. He crawled back onto the bed and lowered his mouth down onto the Alfred’s throbbing manhood while simultaneously slipping one slick finger into his entrance. His head bobbed up and down, swallowing Alfred deeper with each dip of his head as he worked himself open. Arthur added another finger into himself.

“Mmmhmmm.”He hummed around Alfred’s cock as he reached his prostate, causing a groan of pleasure to escape Alfred.

“Arthur, aaah, please! I can’t wait anymore! Arthur please!!!” Alfred begged, that was clearly the only way this torture would stop. Arthur released Alfred from his mouth with a nearly inaudible pop. He crawled further up the bed and placed a kiss on the impatient Alfred’s lips.

“Relax love, I wouldn’t get you like this just to not give you what you want.”

“I’m beginning to wonder-“ Arthur cut him off with another kiss, tracing his lips with the tip of his tongue, requesting entrance which Alfred gave gladly. As the kiss continued Arthur lowered himself down onto Alfred’s waiting manhood.

“Aaaaah”

“Fuuuuck!”

Alfred’s hand took hold of Arthur’s hips as he started to move. Guided by Alfred’s strong steady hand, Arthur lifted and slowly lowered himself, setting a comfortable pace. He pushed his hands down on Alfred’s chest as both a balance point and a method of keeping the blue eyed man in place while he searched for his prostate once more. Their breath came in short gasps punctuated by the occasional quiet moan until…

“Aaah! Fuck YES!!!” Arthur’s head snapped back, nails’ digging into Alfred’s chest, as a pleasure filled scream was ripped from his body. Arthur started pushing himself harder, faster, practically impaling himself to gain more pleasure. Arthur’s hold on Alfred slipped and Alfred flipped them over so that Alfred was resting on the bed.

Alfred set a punishing pace, lips crashing together with Arthur’s, swallowing every sound that passed through his lips. Arthur‘s nails dragged down Alfred’s back leaving rising scratches behind. The pair was lost in each other, drowning under a wave of pleasure, sweat dripping and mingling on  their bodies.

“ALFRED!!!” Arthur’s back arched off the mattress as he climaxed onto Alfred’s and his own stomach. After a few short thrust, Alfred followed with a deep groan.

The duo stared at each other attempting to catch their breath in between gentle kisses. Alfred removed himself from Arthur, causing the ash blond to whine at the loss, and lay down beside him.

“Hey Arthur?” Alfred pressed a trail of feather light kisses from Arthur’s jaw down to his neck.

“Yes love.” Arthur’s voice was raspy and exhausted, sounding like he was on the verge of falling asleep.

“I’m glad you picked me to be your partner. Getting here took some time but I wouldn’t have done anything differently. I love you.” Alfred buried his nose in Arthur’s hair, sighing in contentment as he drifted closer to sleep.

“Thank you for accepting me as I am. I love you too.” Arthur’s whisper was barely audible but it hung in the air as the men drifted off into a sleep surrounded by the warmth that comes from true love, understanding, and acceptance.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay my darlings, we have reached the end of our journey here. This chapter is brought to you by Mr. Saxobeat by Alexandra Stan and Me & U by Cassie. I, your lovely author, would like you, my dear readers, to know that I love my fucking throwbacks and, much like our dear Arthur, I AM A CUMBERBITCH AND PROUD! Hence the song choices and Arthur's pajamas (A gift from Alfred after having marathoned Sherlock during a sleepover). Alright, so I know I did not announce the winner. That's what the final final chapter is for. Next on my list, I'd like to thank my dear cheese curd of a best friend, fellow author, actual Lovino, and other half of my brain majorleeobvious once more for the Italian spoken in this chapter. Italian that I should probably translate for you guys,
> 
> Grazie Arturo. Allora per favore prendi il tuo complimento di merda e ficcatelo nel culo dove appartiene – Thank you Arthur. Now please take your shitty compliment and shove it up your ass where it belongs.
> 
> Her lovely gift to us all! (applause). I'd also like to thank her for sticking with me through this process which involved many nights of staying up until 3 am and me second guessing myself and thinking I'm the worst writer ever. So thanks my sweet honey!! Next on my list of things to take care of, Gilbert calls Alfred the German word for eagle(explanation later. please indulge me). So this chapter was a long time coming, hence the reason I kind of indulged.. kind of...a lot... I indulged a lot. But it was worth it. Thank you to all of you lovely amazing wonderful readers for all of your support and comments that make getting up every Sunday and posting this story worth it! Hopefully this chapter is worth the wait for all of you too. And that you'll stick around for the very last bit. Okay, I've been sappy and such and rambled significantly so I think it's time for me to go. Thank you again for reading and I'll see you all next week! ~SgtCoolWhip


	13. Epilogue: This is All Gilbert's Fault

Several Months Later

* * *

Arthur walked in the direction of his studio already running through the next thing he would be teaching his students. Since the competition the number of people taking classes from him had increased so much that he not only had to add more classes, he had to bring in a new instructor for different styles of dance. He was thrilled with the steady growth of his classes but with every small increase there was a sacrifice that needed to be made. He opened the door of his home away from home and the melodic voice of Ciara washed over him as he stepped inside. He walked past the entry way to see Wendy, a normally shy dancer, front and center leading a new student in what looked to be a new piece.

_Looks like Alfred is letting his little minions branch out and see where they’re comfortable. I miss when they were my darling little students, but it’s hard to compete with a man who can switch from a somewhat mature adult to a giant 10 year old in less than a second. I just wish he had left Marcello to me instead of making him his sidekick in making me crazy. Speaking of, where is the dynamic duo of insanity?_

From his standpoint the only ones he could see were the students dancing in a harder style than he could ever properly teach without being angry enough to kill someone. Wendy and the new girl, whose name he would get right at some point, moved together giving a mirrored effect as they executed the same moves on opposite sides. As the voice blasting from the speakers switched from Ciara to Ludacris, the pair of female split to allow the male students led by Franz and a less new student, who also happened to be Alfred’s cousin. The boys started to spread out and work the floor. Franz, Peter, Clint and Kristoff with his now ever present plush moose resting on his shoulder danced in a triangular formation, Franz and Clint moving as together as one dancer,  while Nicolae and another new recruit Oliver, who for some bizarre reason always wore a crown and cape, performed small acrobatics before joining in with the quartet dancing center floor. Everything seemed to be going off without a hitch until Franz looked around and a familiar crazed expression spread over his face.

This formation… IT IS ART!! SUCH AMAZING DESIGN AND PATTERN….”Franz threw his hands up into the air as he yelled about how everything they were doing was ‘art’ and how everyone needed to stop and appreciate the works of wonder surrounding them.

“Oh my GOD Franz. Shut the fuck up before I artfully knock your fucking teeth into the back of your fucking skull!” Alfred’s cousin, Clint, looked like he was going to tear out his dark brown hair and march right up to Franz to make good on his threat.

_Better go diffuse the situation before they get blood all over the floor._

Arthur was just about to take a step further into the room when the music cut out and Alfred’s voice came from seemingly nowhere. “And we’re done with that. Franz, we were doing so well. I know everything is art but you need to focus so that we can move on.  As for you, Clinton, quit trying to prove how manly you are to the girls. They will like you more if you act like yourself instead of some wannabe badass.” Clint’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance as he looked up towards the ceiling as if some supreme being from above were speaking to him and using his full name, despite how much he hated it.

Oliver walked up beside Clint, resting an arm on his shoulder. “Relax, Clint, I do believe that our art loving Franz does have a point in that we need to appreciate the art all around us. And I believe your wise cousin and our dear instructor is correct in saying that the ladies may like you better without the bad boy routine.”

“Thank you for being the voice of reason Oliver.” Alfred’s amused voice rang out sounding like it was coming from everywhere.

“Franz, give him a piece of candy. Clinton, you get one if you can make it through the next two runs without threatening anyone.” Marcello’s voice followed Alfred’s, sounding less amused and more mischievous, as if this was only a small step in his plans for further chaos.

“If I may be the voice of practical time usage,” Wendy spoke up from her position on the right side of the main floor, “We need to get back to work. We can’t have Al and Arthur being the only ones ready to compete. So, Clinton, stop wasting our freaking time. We don’t care how much of a bad ass you are. We have work to do and trophies to win.”

“STOP CALLING ME CLINTON!!!” It was taking Kristoff and Nicolae nearly everything in them to hold the very pissed off Clint back from doing something that he would later regret as Alfred and Marcello attempted to speak up and calm the rising tension.

“Calm down. We call you Clinton because you keep freaking out about it. Stop over reacting and we’ll stop doing it. Okay Clinton?” Alfred’s voice took on a condescending tone as he addressed his cousin, turning the young man’s anger toward himself rather than his classmates.

Arthur looked around the entire room until he spotted a flash of honey blond and red-ish brown hair dangling from the ceiling. _Of course they’re on the ceiling again. Where else would they be._ Arthur rubbed his temples, musing his already bushy brows.

“Alfred stop messing with your cousin. You know he hates when you call him by his full name. What are you two doing up there, anyway? Marcello I know you know better already.” Arthur’s voice cut through the chaos filling the room, all eyes shifting towards him.

The dangling pair looked at each other deciding whose turn it was to answer Arthur’s question about why they were on the ceiling. Marcello finally turned his head toward his Ash blond head instructor with a smile. “Oh you know. We were surveying the troops. Making sure we had a view from all angles. We figured you’d be proud of our dedication to perfection.” Marcello’s smile went from innocent to cheeky as he went further into his explanation. Alfred just hung there laughing like a maniac with his fist resting on his hips superhero style.

“How many times have I told you to stay off of the ceiling?” Arthur couldn’t hold back the smile creeping up on his lips. The pair of them may make him crazy but he wouldn’t have them any other way.

Alfred look around before settling on the student he had keeping track of that particular number of occurrences. “Nicolae?”

Nicolae snickered into his hand as he looked up at Arthur with shining eyes. “Today makes 47 times Arthur.”

“Thank you, Nicolae.” Arthur tried to run through his methods of keeping the pair of acrobats off of his ceiling and lost track of how many he had done.

“Peter, how many attempts have I had at keeping these two on the floor?” Arthur turned toward the pale blond boy with brows comparable to his own, giving up on hiding his smile.

“This is number 17 Arthur. It worked for about two weeks. That’s a new record for keeping Al and Marc on Earth with the rest of us.” Peter adjusted the blue beret on his head so it sat on a less precarious angle.

“Time to get started on number 18 then. Can you two come down now?”

“No problem babe.” Alfred and Marcello flipped themselves over and landed on the balls of their feet, earning a round of applause from the students that had never seen this particular display before and took a bow.

“Don’t encourage them!” Arthur yelled in between laughter. Alfred walked over and wrapped his arms around him from behind, kissing his hair.

“Encourage us or don’t. We’ll still end up doing it anyway.” He squeezed Arthur tight around the middle. “Besides,” He whispered so that only Arthur could hear him “you like watching me hang upside down so my abs are shown off and the rest of my muscles move around for you to drool over.”

“We’ll talk about that later.” The pair shared a short sweet kiss as the afternoon sun shone through the front window hitting a glimmering gold trophy behind them.

* * *

Across the city, a familiar white blond haired man sat in an over large spinning chair, legs kicked up on a desk. He sipped from a glass of dark red wine, running his fingers over a small yellow bird in his lap. He set the glass on his desk with a satisfied smile and stared out the window at the view of the city.

“Kesesesesesesesese. I just love when everything goes according to mein awesome plans.”

Suddenly the door slammed open and Roderich, clad in one of Gilbert’s black t-shirts and a pair of violet jeans, pointed at him and screamed “ICH WUSSTE ES!!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright my darlings, this is the official end of The Rhythm of Freedom. It's been a fun ride right? Right?! Please tell me I'm not the only one that had fun. This chapter is brought to you by (even though no lyrics are listed) Oh by Ciara feat. Ludacris. Anyway we have a few thing to take care of. First new characters!
> 
> Clinton/Clint (mentioned last in ch.10): Molossia  
> Oliver: Hutt River
> 
> Yay micronations! Okay second, some of you may have noticed that this story is now part of a collection. That dear people is because about 6 chapters ago, this story kind of took on a life of it's own and with that came some prequels. There are actually four prequels that go with his lovely work of my brain, two of which will be solely written by myself, one that will be a collaborative work between myself and my dear cheese curd of a best friend majorleeobvious, and one that is a work by the good major herself. Hence the reason I said try to get familiar with her work but if you didn't whateves. Third order of business what Roderich screams at Gilbert in the end is "I KNEW IT!" in German. This is in reference to why I titled this epilogue "This is All Gilbert's Fault" and the reason for the lovely prequels. Fourth order of business, before I pass on the baton for majorleeobvious to take on the next leg of this journey, she asked me to inform you all of a few things. We are, in terms or writing, two very different creatures, I was not kidding when I said she is pretty much the other half of my brain. In terms of flavor, the good major deals in sweet while I deal in savory. She also wanted me to inform you of her constant usage of terrible pun (if you like that sort of thing you'll love her work). I told her you guys were nice, please don't make me a liar. I don't want her to show up at my house and yell at me. Okay? Thanks! Moving on, Thanks so much for sticking around and taking this journey with me I appreciate all the support and encouragement from each and every one of you lovely readers, even if you never said a word I felt the love, so thanks ever so much! Now if all goes according to plan, I'll see you all again approximately two months after majorleeobvious starts posting. Hope you'll stick around. *hands off baton* Major, it's your turn ~SgtCoolWhip


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